Well, What Do You Know?
by hunni07
Summary: Get ready to take a plunge into the twisted mind of "Lucy," a certain sister to a certain Slytherin we know and love. Takes place in 6th year for HP and gang AU . NOT SLASH. Please rr! CHAPTER 17 UP!
1. Top Ten

**::AN:: **Sup peoples? lol Well, this is gonna be another one of my ficcies, but it has absolutely NOTHING to do with my other fics so don't get all spazoid. The summary says all that needs to be said (for now). Love you! Toodles and sorry it's short, but the upcoming chapters will be longer, and please review, I need to know what you think! lol Enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

Top Ten Reasons Why I Hate My Life:

10) 85 percent of the population can curl their tongue into a "U".

That does not include me.

My life is "U"-less in the curly-tongue department.

9) I have a pinkish/reddish lurker on my chin that could spring into full-blown spottiness within the next few moments of my life.

Which will forever scar my face, since I know me, and I know that I will feel the incessant urge to pick at it.

And pick and pick and pick and pick and pick and…

8) My brother decided to wake me up with not only the "cold water" treatment this morning, but the "cold water and foghorn" treatment as well.

7) It's very difficult to hear out of my left ear now.

6) My hair is sticking up.

At right angles.

5) I'm having trouble seeing, as I have misplaced my glasses.

Eyeglasses.

Spectacles.

Bifocals.

Er, no. I don't wear bifocals. Not anymore.

I mean… What? What was I saying?

4) I am fifteen and I haven't been at home in five years. Not since the year before first year, right before Mom and Dad sent me off to Durmstrang, where they said would be better for me.

That's not the bad part. This is:

I am home now.

3) In two days the summer hols will be over and it's back to school for me.

2) I'm not going back to Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

1) I am going to Hogwarts.


	2. The Meaning of Life: FFFFFF!

**::AN:: **Alas, it's longer and stuff. Sorry there's not a lot of dialogue and all! I'll update again soon, I promise and thanks for the reviews **randomblinx** and **gemstar2**!! Please review this chappie, ppls! I wanna know what you think of this ficcie, and don't worry, I'm not abandoning my other ones... Here's the chap!!

**Chapter 2**

I have discovered the meaning of life.

The meaning of life is finding what it is that you do that makes you lose all track of time and then doing it, as much as possible. (Well, that's, like, my version of it.)

I am doing that right now.

What am I doing, you ask?

Well, I'm thinking, for one.

But yes, that's all I'm doing. Unlike most people (i.e., my super-annoying brother), I am perfectly content with just sitting here, gazing out the window in a melancholic fashion, pondering thoughts of –

"Shouldn't you be… painting your nails or something?"

I looked up, scowling at my intruder. Gods, don't people know how to leave other people alone? No, of course not. Not when the 'people' is none other than my dear, conniving, manipulative, stuck-up, pompous, chauvinistic, nuisance-of-a-human-being, spoiled –

"You're face is going to get stuck like that, Lucy. You will be forever be sneering. True, a sneer is the honest expression of a – Hey! Let go of my hair!"

My brother.

I tugged harder on his platinum blonde hair, only just realizing that I had stood up and attacked him. Gads, I hate that. One second I'm perfectly content with sitting there, thinking peacefully to myself… And the next, I'm attacking my brother. Not to mention, pulling his hair.

Can you _get_ more sissified?

"OW!" He howled pathetically. "MOM! GET HER OFF OF ME!"

I smirked, releasing my grip on his "precious hair" and letting my arm fall to my side. "It serves you right!" I shot back. "Going on and on about honest expression and – That's my NOSE!"

He laughed triumphantly and turned around, skipping out of the room before sticking his tongue out at me.

Oh, that's mature. Great one, _brother_. Just pinch a girl's nose as hard as physically possible and then skip out of the room like a two-year-old, blowing raspberries at your poor, innocent victim.

'Tard.

I touched my fingers to my nose lightly, letting out a low, "Ow" in the process. Whatever. I don't have time for this. I haven't even started packing. Besides, leaving the room will only further provoke Mother's annoyed looks and exasperated sighs, because, _no doubt_, Brother Dearest ran to her side the second he left my quarters.

Moron.

I shrugged my shoulders, twisting my neck slightly to hear the soft _crack_ that made me feel better after sitting in the same position for too long. Pulling out what books I had already purchased for the new year, I tossed them onto my bed lightly.

This is boring.

I flopped lazily onto my bed, rolling onto my back and shoving my texts aside. I could see a long blonde lock of hair on my shoulder. Hey, that actually looks kind of pretty. Maybe I could get the rest of my hair to curl like that? All loose and shiny and pretty and –

Really, it's just a waste of time. My hair is despicable. It's slightly wavy and platinum blonde, with abnormally brown roots for about a centimeter at the top of my hair. It looks a bit unnatural.

Do you realize how many times I've been accused of tampering with my hair? Oh, come off it, people! It's not like I could probably even work any of those glamour spells to begin with! I'd most likely turn my whole head bald. Or give myself a second head, Merlin only knows.

It's bad enough that it's an unnatural color. I mean, come on. Whose hair is _really_ this blonde?

Well, raise your hand if your hair is an unnatural platinum blonde color! Come on everyone!

I chuckled to myself, raising my hand into the air and smiling gooffily.

Merlin's trousers, this must be the worst case of boredosity that I've encountered since…

Last month. Ugh, I don't even want to think about that. Ahem, but I will.

It was just after I'd arrived at home for the summer holidays, when my mother sat me down in the parlor-lounge-room-thing and started going on and on about something to do with Father and –

Wait. Wasn't that… important?

Well, sort of. I am kind of disappointed that I didn't get to see Father at all this holiday. I haven't seen him in five years! That's far too long to go without Dad!

Sure, he's not the nicest of folk, but he's still Dad. I get along with him better than I do Mum, that's for sure. At least he doesn't cling to his son like he's the only child he has (like Mom does).

I'm still thoroughly confused on the details, but I do know that Father got himself landed in Azkaban somehow. How, though, I don't know. Mother won't tell me. She says it's best not to talk about it. Whatever 'it' is.

Anyway, though, that was a pretty boring moment.

I remember sitting on the couch, straight-backed and full-attention.

And then gradually turning horizontal as Mother's voice kind of droned on in the distance. By the time I was 'dismissed,' my feet were hanging off one arm of the couch and my head was kind of twisted at an angle so that my hair hung off the other edge, lightly grazing the soft carpeted floor below.

I still only remember half of what she was going on about. I'm usually a really great listener, mind you, but sheesh! If you had to hear Mom's voice for about three hours straight, you'd be lounging around, bored out of you mind, ready to scream at the top of your lungs for the nearest dementor to come pay you a healthy visit and put you out of your misery, too!

Or maybe you wouldn't have exaggerated so much? Er… Perhaps not.

Anyway, the long and short of it (even though I've never really understood that expression) is that Mother believes that being so far away at Durmstrang will be "too dangerous" for me and that it's in my "best interest" to finish off my next few years of school at Hogwarts. Blah blah blah blah blah.

So now I suppose the short and, er, short of it is that I'm going to be attending Hogwarts for my fifth year, at least.

How crummy is that?

I mean, there are REASONS I would have rather gone to Durmstrang!

For instance, my brother!!! I mean, COME ON! Now I'll have to attend the same school as him?!

Thank Merlin that I'm not in the same year as him, or I'd probably go mad.

Or I would kill him.

Not literally of course, but I would plot the thought of "killing him" more often than I already do.

Not to give you the wrong impression or anything, but my brother totally sucks. He's overly uptight and arrogant and all that annoyingly boring stuff that comes along with being superbly rich and aware that you're going to inherit all of your father's fortune. But he's really not that bad.

Or, at least, he didn't used to be. We used to hang out all the time. He was like, my best friend! Granted, at nine years old, your dog is also your "best friend," but still. (By the way, I didn't have a dog at nine years old, anyway. So there.) It was just that once he started school at Hogwarts, he got so cruel and distant, fully taking on the role of mean older brother.

Which is why I refused to go to Hogwarts. One, I didn't want to be near him anymore. And two, I didn't want to end up like him.

So, after all Mom and Dad's desperate attempts at convincing me to stay didn't work, I was sent off to Durmstrang a few days before the first day of my first year.

There were a lot of "Fs" in that sentence.

First.

Frist.

Fist.

FFFFFFF!

I'm going to develop a type of lisp or something if I don't stop myself soon. I'll be 'fffing' the better part of the day away at this rate. Which doesn't sound so bad. It's actually quite fun. You should try it. You know you want to. Come on, I'll do it with you.

FFFFFFF!


	3. It Couldn't Possibly Get Any Worse

**::AN::** Bah, third chappie... I'm catching up with myself! (lol) Anyways, I hope you like and please review! (Thanks for all the reviews before...)

**Chapter 3**

I suppose the words "civilized manner" should have popped back into my head at some point or another, but at the time, I really didn't care.

Funny how that is. That happens to me _all the time_. You know, you'll be all caught up in the heat of the moment or what have you, and then later – an hour later, actually – when you're taking time to reflect, you'll wish you had said that little sarcastic remark you just came up with instead of just pouting like a three-year-old who had just gotten her lollipop taken away and going, "Well, yeah! So what?"

Like I did.

I was lounging on my bed again, sighing over my lame ability to "fight back" in those nasty verbal arguments I get into with my mother. You know, the ones where you think you totally know what you're talking about and how you _so_ have the upper-hand in the little squabble, when suddenly your mother brings up the fact that you haven't exactly been at your home in five years, and that you don't have a say in anything that goes on, and that, yes, you will obey your older brother's wishes and do whatever he tells you to; unless he states otherwise, of course. It's pitiful, really, the way I "fight back." All I could do was kind of scoff at her in a 'dignity-at-all-times' manner and say what I've already told you I said – I shouted it really, which only further adds to the stupidosity of it all, since she was talking in a perfectly soothing voice as though none of this affected her one bit (I hate that) – and then turn on my heel and stomp all the way up to my bedroom.

And now I'm utterly exhausted, as it took me the better part of half-an-hour to get up here, since we were out in the rose gardens, which are downstairs on the first floor, obviously, (my room is on the fourth) and all the way on the other side of the manor. Damn architects. Whatever happened to those muggle elevators, hmm? We could really use a few of those, especially with these 'ugly-as-me-on-a-Saturday-morning-without-breakfast-and-proper-dental-and-beauty-care' shoes that mother insists I wear, even though I howl in pain every time I take more than five steps.

Stairs are hell, I tell you.

I should start a Muggle Appreciation group and petition for escalators like the ones I saw at that wonderfully large building with the many different stores inside it that time I visited America with Aunt Carolina, who we never speak of due to the fact that she's not really my aunt, but my brother's Godmother, who sort of disgraced our family by marrying a muggle (even though she's not, like, related to us). Shhhh! I beg of you! The sole honor of my family depends on your word that you WON'T TELL!

Or, better yet, tell everyone you know. You should even walk up to poor, innocent passersby in the street and go, "Did you know that Carolina Dippet disgraced that powerful wizard family when she married that highly intelligent and mad-funny muggle bloke, even though it shouldn't really matter that much since she's of no blood relation – that anyone cares to know of – to the family and she's only the eldest son's Godmother?!" Go ahead. My life could not possibly get any worse.

No.

No way did I just THINK that! No!

Do you know what happens when someone says something along the lines of "it couldn't possibly get any worse"?! It's like a mad, angry, unspeakable, horrendous, jinxed, cursed, hexed, horrible (go look up more adjectives if you're that interested) little phrase that no person, whether they be good, evil, English, foreign, tall, short, skinny, fat, plump, chubby, 'just right,' blonde, brunette, red-haired, chestnut, mahogany, any other color, blue-eyed, green-eyed, brown-eyed, violet-eyed, hazel-eyed, honey-eyed, red-eyed, white, black, brown, green, blue, pink, orange, yellow, yellow-green, purple…

What in Merlin's name was I even talking about?!

Oh, right.

You just don't SAY that! Ooh, but maybe it doesn't count, since I was only _thinking_…

… And looking frantically around my room while pacing feverishly and muttering, "No escape, no escape" over and over?

Do you know what HAPPENS when someone says, "Things couldn't possibly get any worse."?!

Yes, that's right, you're catching on to my rambling bits of nonsense/genius observings!

Right, folks. When you say that…

Things get worse.

They do indeed, get very, very worse.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

They got so worse that I refused to leave my room.

I was held up like a little Prisoner-of-War, all quiet and whimpering – like as though I was on my very last hope of making it out… alive…

Well, except for the fact that I was being held up of my own free will. And that there were actually people outside of my bedroom door, trying desperately to persuade me to come out in between consistent banging on the door.

But I am a witch. I am from an honorable, pureblood family.

Most of all, I am stubborn. I do not back down. And if I don't want anyone in my room – or for myself to leave my room, for that matter – then it wasn't going to happen. That was _that_.

Unfortunately, my brother happens to be a wizard. And I am not as smart as he is, apparently, he seemed to finally developed a brain as I heard him growl "Alohamora" from the other side of the door.

Oh. Oh yeah?! You think you're so cool now, huh?! Being all big and tough and going, "Alohamora" at the big hunk of wood in the wall – cement, I mean… Or whatever the heck my door is made out of! You're _sooo_ cool now oh brother of mine!

Gah, I could hurt him. Really I could.

Which is why I attempted to, by hiding around the door as he opened it, and then pouncing on his back like a rabid animal as soon as he stepped into view.

"I am not going to Hogwarts!" I shrieked, not caring how childish I was being. I did not, under any circumstances, want to attend a school that I had purposefully been avoiding for the past five years of my life.

It _is_ five, right? I mean… I'm fifteen. It might actually only be _four_ years, technically, but…

Oh, do shut up, brain!

"Geroffomeyoumadwoman!" My brother managed to grumble in my general direction as he struggled for breath underneath my mere hundred-pound body.

"You deserve all you get!" I hollered into his ear, fully aware that his ear _was_ right near my mouth and no, I didn't _really_ have to shout, but not caring nonetheless. "You're a spoiled git with shiny hair and too-clear skin! You're a freak! You freaky-deeky freak!"

I don't think I previously mentioned how horrible I am at arguments.

I'm horrible at arguments.

And comebacks. Thus the lame-as-lame-can-get "freaky-deeky" comment. Honestly, you'd think that with my family, I'd have that witty way of being totally cruel and uncaring and being completely and utterly indifferent to your surroundings and…

Did I mention that I also have this crazy tendency to _attack_ things? One of the guys I knew back at Durmstrang said it was something to do with sexual frustration, but then again I think he was just trying to get down my pants. Luckily, that was the one time I managed to keep my cool and I just smiled sweetly and said, "Oh, do sod off you big oaf."

My whole train of thought was rudely interrupted by my own scream as I was tossed a million feet into the air and then shoved three hundred kilometers across the floor.

Well, okay, my brother shoved me off of him and I kind of slid on the floor for a few milliseconds. But it seemed like my exaggeration bit of it all the same. (I shoot raspberries at you, you great big ninny!)

"Get a hold of yourself, you _worm_." My oh-so-loving brother hissed at me. "We have to leave in a quarter of an hour and you better be ready!" And with that he stomped out of my room, leaving me to be whipped violently in the face by his robes as he turned and left.

How does he make his robes do that? _My_ robes don't do that, do they? No, they don't!

In an 'I-_wish_-I-had-dignity-at-all-times' moment, I stood up as quickly as I could – disregarding the split second where my feet got tangled in each other and I fell face-first into the floor, letting out another ear-splitting screech – and followed my brother out the door and halfway down the hall, where I had to stop due to the throbbing pain in my feet.

"Oh, you think you're _so_ cool!" I shouted at his retreating figure. "Why can't you just say 'fifteen minutes' like any normal person?! Quarter of an hour, I ask you! Who do you think you are?! Homer?!"

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

My life is the pits.

Pits, I tell you.

Mother seemed to think we'd be perfectly fine on our own, so we left for the lame-o Hogwarts ChooChoo Train or whatever it's called.

My favorite (and only) brother decided to ditch me A.S.A.P. All he did was pretend to stare off at something and then hiss out of the corner of his mouth, "I'll find you if I need to speak to you. Just sit somewhere and wait like a good girl for once and you'll be fine."

"And if I don't?" I asked, obviously curious as to what he would do.

His reply was, "I'll hex you into next Tuesday."

Of course, I just stared at him and said, "Time travel is illegal."

I know, I know, that's not what he meant!

Well, I mean… I know that _now_…

So, anyway, I'm just sitting here in this compartment-thing and kind of leaning my head against the window. This is _so_ boring.

I turned my head when I heard a small noise, only to find that the compartment door was opening.


	4. What's A Sorted?

**::AN::** Ah, chappie four! Thanks to **randomblinx**, **gemstar2**, **Tintalu**, and **msj** for reviewing! (yay!)

**Chapter 4**

I watched patiently (ish) as four figures walked inside. Two boys and two girls.

Well, hello, Hogwarts-y-students! Do you mind LEAVING as I sit here wallowing I my own self-misery?

"Can we sit in here?" One girl asked, who, might I add, had worse hair than me. It was brown, bushy, and wouldn't stay still. But she at least appeared to be nice, so I didn't ask her if she had seen any good birds lately, what with that nest on her head and all. (Don't laugh! Don't laugh! Brain, SHUT UP!) She said, "All the other compartments are full."

Really? Are they? Geez, you'd think they'd have more compartments if there were so many students! Talk about a cheap school, I mean COME ON! Whatever, though.

I nodded, but didn't say anything and they sat down. The boys and one of the girls sat across from me, but the girl who had spoken sat down next to me – I guess so that she wasn't bunched in the seat with those boys. Who, might I add, aren't too shabby looking…

I mean… er… What the hell? I don't even know them! They're Hogwarts weirdos! They're probably friends with my brother or something… Gah, involuntary mental shudder. Thank Merlin I managed to bite my lip before I _actually_ shuddered. You, know, literally.

The four Hogwarts students looked a little uncomfortable.

Well, I'm _sorry_! You could act like I'm not even here, you know! I couldn't have the slightest interest in what it is you gossipy little twerps have to say. No doubt they'll want to "catch up" after not seeing each other over the summer holidays. Or maybe they did see each other and they just want to start gabbing away anyway.

People who talk too much tend to bug me. I like peace and quiet. You know, to think. Remember?

I turned to look back out the window, only stealing small glances at my intruders out of the corner of my eye every few seconds.

Okay, so there's the bushy-haired girl. Her hair's not that bad, now that she's not moving. All she'd have to do is straighten it out a little, you know. She's actually really pretty, but it seems like she doesn't like to accentuate any of the features on her face. She's not even wearing lip-gloss, let alone any other type of makeup! She must be an intellectual. Only smart people can get away with not caring about their looks.

Then there's the red-haired boy and red-haired girl. (Maybe they're related? That color hair and those freaking freckles can't just be a coincidence.) The girl looks very pretty and she seems to be wearing a bit of makeup, but thankfully not enough to look like some prostitute or something. (Bite lip again and hold back shudder…) The boy is very tall. I can tell even though he's sitting down, but you know, I _did_ see him standing up just a few seconds ago, sheesh. He looks pretty cute, but his clothes are a bit raggedy. So are the redheaded girl's now that I think of it.

Then of course there's the black-haired boy. I have to say, he's a bit too skinny, if you know what I mean. Not _sickly_ skinny, mind you, but he's still skinny. Kind of athletic skinny, now that I think about it. Maybe he plays Quidditch? He seems to be, what's the word? Lean (ish). He wears glasses, though, which is totally cool, since I can sympathize for the poor bloke. His clothes actually seem to be a bit too loose for his body (er… weird…) and he has fringe falling in his eyes a little. It's the kind of fringe that mother hates on young boys. She used to slick back my brother's hair _every day_ so that it wouldn't fall in his eyes. I guess she stopped, though, since he actually looks like a normal person and all that now.

The spectacled boy seems to be shorter than flaming-haired boy and

Oh… wow.

Spectacled boy has a scar on his forehead.

Don't stare, Lucy, don't stare. That's right, just gaze out the window as if you didn't even notice a single thing…

Merlin's trousers… That's HARRY POTTER! Whoa.

I so totally forgot that he attended Hogwarts…

Gah, he must be so stuck up. I remember reading about him in the newspapers when I was at Durmstrang. Well, actually, I had a girl translate the newspaper for me every day, since it wasn't printed in English or anything.

Honestly, how are we ever going to get anywhere in this world if foreign people keep insisting on speaking their own language? Seriously, I mean, I should start a petition for English rights! This one time, I saw this man in the streets and he was talking to this other man and they were pointing at a map… and the sad thing is that they were speaking English, but I had NO IDEA what they were saying… That was when I went to America with Aunt Carolina that one time.

But don't tell anyone I spoke of her again, will you? I can't bother with all this "it couldn't possibly get any worse" nonsense. My life is the pits, as I have so lovingly told you previously.

"So, Hermione, did you find out who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is this year?" The red-haired boy asked out loud.

Who the hell is he talking to?!

The girl next to me shook her head. (Oh, her. I guess her name is Hermione?) "No," she said. "I'm sure it's someone qualified, though. Dumbledore would never choose an unfit teacher."

I snorted. I couldn't help it! I've heard about what goes on at this school! They're teachers are constantly turning into werewolves and taking over the school and trying to get that stone-thing that that really old guy, Nicholas Flannel, made. (Flannel…? What a funny name… I'm sure that's not it…)

Although I'm almost positive that that wasn't just _one_ teacher who did all those things. I hope.

"Are you new?" The bushy girl asked someone.

Ooh, I think she asked me. Social interaction. Oh joy.

I turned to face her and nodded. No reason to speak, that's for sure. When someone asks you a yes-or-no question, there's no reason to talk aloud unless they asked "why" or "why not"? Or something like that.

"What's your name?" The red-haired girl asked.

"Where are you from?" Her male-version-look-alike asked at the same time.

"Lucy." I said simply. "Durmstrang."

"You don't sound like you're from Durmstrang." Hermione stated.

Uh, duh.

I shook my head. "I'm English." I said.

"What year are you in?" The red-haired girl asked.

"Have you been sorted?" Hermione questioned.

"Fifth." I said to the redheaded girl. (And might I add how rude it is that they wouldn't introduce themselves.) I turned back to Hermione. "Er, what?"

"Sorted." She repeated slowly. "Have you been sorted?"

I blinked at her. Honestly, when someone asks "what" it usually doesn't mean, "repeat the question, please." I obviously heard her. "What's sorted?" I asked dumbly.

She just smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but the redheaded girl spoke first. "It's where you put the hat on your head and then it tells you what house you're in. I'm in fifth year, too, so it would be mad fun if you got Gryffindor."

I furrowed my brow and totally lost my cool indifference. "Okay, I get that you're in fifth year but what in Merlin's name do griffins have to do with anything?"

They all smiled and started snickering. Well, _excuse me_! I caught stuck-up-Potter's eye and he smirked.

"Have your parents spoken to Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked me once she stopped giggling.

I nodded. "Yeah, but my mom didn't say anything." I paused and shrugged. "Well… she might have. But I don't think I was listening."

The girls smiled as the red-haired boy chuckled. Hermione gasped. "Oh," she exclaimed, "I forgot!" She gestured to herself and said, "I'm Hermione Granger." She held her arm towards her friends as a hint for them to introduce themselves.

Granger, Granger, Granger… No, that doesn't sound familiar… Muggleborn?

"Ginny Weasley." The red-haired girl said.

The redheaded boy nodded. "The name's Ronald Weasley. Well, Ron. Nobody calls me Ronald."

"'Cept Mom." Ginny filled in.

Ah, so they _are_ brother and sister…

I am so smart.

Weasley… Oh, I've heard of them!

I turned to silent-Harry-whose-name-I-"don't-know" and he simply said, "Harry Potter."

I suppose this is where I gasp and go, "It's Harry Potter!" But I didn't really feel up to gasping and pointing in a giddy fashion, so I just nodded to him and the others. "So what's a sorted?" I asked.

They all let out a breath they seemed to have been holding. Hermione smiled. "You don't know what the sorting hat is?"

I shook my head. "Er, no." I shrugged then. "All I know is that I'm supposed to look for a Professor McGonagall before the feet." I paused and thought for a short moment. "I mean _feast_. I think."

Ginny giggled. "Yeah, you're not a first year so she'll probably sort you first. Or she'll give you a private sorting." She shrugged and grinned again. "Do you have any favorite houses?"

I blinked intelligently (not) at her. "I thought it was a castle. Why are you talking about houses?"

"That's what they're called." Ron supplied. "There's Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin."

Oh, now I know. I've heard of Slytherin…

"We're all in Gryffindor." Hermione said. "They're not _literally_ houses. It's more of… dorm assignments. You had dorm rooms in Durmstrang, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah… Girls' Dorms and Boys' Dorms. First Years' Wing, Second Years' Wing, Third…" I trailed off and blinked at her. "They only separated us by year and gender, that's it."

"Well, I suppose McGonagall will explain it all to you." Hermione said calmly.

I shrugged and was about to ask what year the rest of them were in when the compartment door opened again and in walked my brother with two extremely large boys.

**Sorry to end it there**, but I seem to be catching up with myself (gotta keep writing!) **Please review** and much love to all!!!


	5. My Brother's Footsteps

**Disclaimer: **OMG! I've forgotten to do a disclaimer for like, the first FOUR chapters! I'm sorry (so, so sorry!)! Okay, I don't own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling and a bunch of other WB people and publishing people and maybe more people, but NOT me. I only claim Lucy, who is my OC. But still, please don't sue me or anything.

**::AN:: **Ah, DUDE! Sorry I haven't updated in like, four million years (well, it wasn't _that_ long) but I've been busy and all that junk, you know. Anyway, I hope you like the chap and please review! (Thanks for all the reviews before, you guys! You're so nice!)

**::NOTE::** I read on Mugglenet that JK Rowling has said that Draco doesn't have any siblings, but... er... whatever. I suppose that makes my story slightly AU, but really, considering my plot (that she went to Durmstrang), it's not _that_ unbelievable, is it? So whatever, though. Just a note - my story is now slightly AU (but only because of that lil' fact, nothing else), so don't get all "Draco doesn't have a sister!" on me please, I almost cried when I read that thingie, I was all, "But... my fic..." and it was sad for a few moments until my Lean Pockets beeped in the microwave and I ate them like I was as starved as two starved things. (I'm rambling now, sorry.)

**Chapter 5**

Such a precious boy, with such kindness in his eyes and – oh my! Would you look at the sneer? He's perfected it since the last time I saw him sneer, which seriously must have only been less than three hours ago.

"Well, well, well," My brother said scathingly, tapping the tips of his fingers together.

Tap, tap, tappy. I'll break off his "tappy" little fingers if he keeps doing that! I swear!

"Shove off, Malfoy." Ginny hissed, standing up. "We haven't got time for you."

Tap, tap, tap.

Wait… what?! She did _not_ just say a totally rude and uncalled for comment to my big brother! And I thought she was nice! The vixen!

"Maybe I just stopped by to say hello." My brother said calmly to the younger girl, who, might I add, was almost a whole foot shorter than him and thus, not very threatening in the physical department. Big Bro flicked his hand towards the chunky boys behind him. "Crabbe, Goyle," he said and they grunted back in unison. "Leave."

No, wee little folk! (Well, actually, they were quite the opposite of wee little folk…) Don't let the clean-pored scary blonde guy boss you around! You're better than that! You have opinions and statements of your own! Statements that need to be heard! So no more of this grunting business, you hear?!

The sad excuses for independent thinkers grunted a bit more before finally exiting the compartment. Lovely Brother turned back to Ginny and smirked. "There, now Crabbe and Goyle are gone. I am defenseless."

"You still have you're wand!" She hissed through clenched teeth as the rest of us watched on in amusement. Well, I was amused, anyway. Can't say the same about the other three, but who gives an apple pie, right?

Apple pie sounds good right now, actually.

My brother raised his eyebrow at the redheaded girl. "My wand?" He repeated, smirking. "You can remove it, if you wish. It's only in my pocket."

Hey…

Was he just – Did he just –?

Ewwww.

Stop it! Stop it! Make it STOP!

Ginny didn't seem fazed, though. She just scowled and –

Ewwww.

And quickly threw her hand forward and pushed his robes aside, pausing only briefly to grab onto something before pulling away, with my brother's wand in her hand.

"You're keen." I couldn't help but choke out in disgust. It came out as more of a laugh, though. As if I thought it was amusing. I didn't. Not anymore. That was disgusting! They were – They were –

FLIRTING!

Ginny turned to me and stared at me blankly for a few dull seconds before she calmly handed my brother's wand to her brother. "He'll break it if you don't leave now." Ginny said, turning back to Gross-Pervy-Brother-of-mine.

"Can I break it anyway, Gin?" Ron asked, glaring at my older brother.

I looked around at Hermione and Harry before gasping involuntarily. (I hate when I do that!)

They – They _hate_ him!

Wow.

I hear quires singing Hallelujah. I hear angels sighing in relief. I hear church bells. I hear –

"Problem, _Lucinda_?" I glanced at my brother only to find that he was the one that had spoken to me.

Halfwit.

I blinked at him and managed an intellectual "Nnnngghh" before rolling my eyes and finally resolving to 'go with' his 'do-as-I-say' plan. "No problem. Do _you_ have a problem?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You know The Ferret?!" Ron exclaimed, looking back and forth from me to Draco.

Um, do you mind? I mean, yeah, I hate him too, but HEY! That's my brother you're talking about! Watch your mouth you disfigured four-eyed (wince) freak!

I mean, wait, Ron doesn't wear glasses, Harry does. Deep breaths, Lucy, deep breaths. Inhale… exhale.

"Sod off, Weasel." Brother Dearest said in a mockingly sweet way to the redheaded boy, before turning back to me and saying in a fairly normal tone, "You don't want to go getting mixed up with the wrong sort here, Luce. Come with me."

I could strangle him. Always telling me what to do like I'm some sort of child. Seriously, I'm FIFTEEN! "I'm sorry," I said coolly, "but I don't think I want your help, _Drake_."

You wanna make fun of my name, eh?! I'll get you back, you sick git!

And then suddenly I was back on his broom and listening to his voice point out how you could see everything much better from the sky. Back to being nine-years-old and fully attached to my now biggest-prat-of-the-century older brother.

How did I get back there, you ask?

Simple. I saw Draco smile. It was brief, but not brief enough so that it didn't reach his eyes, where it still lingered as his face turned into a scowl and he turned to Ron. "Give me my wand back, Weasel."

I leapt up from the seat. "No! You should keep it!" I said to Ron and motioned for him to hand the wand to me, which he did with a shrug.

Draco was practically fuming. He stepped closer to me. "That's it!" He hissed. "You, Miss _Spawn-of-Hell_, are going to regret you ever came to Hogwarts!"

I grinned. "Oh, really? Cuz I thought I _already did_!" I shot back at him defiantly.

Oh, I'm good.

And getting better.

"By the way," he said icily, "you need to go see Professor Dumbledore in his office before the sorting ceremony begins, instead of going to see McGonagall like you were originally told."

Ah, so that's why he showed up here… "Thanks for delivering the message." I smiled and held his wand up. "And since you were oh-so kind enough to go through a whole sentence without being the giant prude that you are," I handed him his wand, "I return your ugly little wand to you, you slimy little goo."

He just stared at me for a second and then snatched his wand from me, turning and making his way out of the compartment in a huff.

"Well," I said, sitting back down in my seat and breathing in and out, "that was quite fun."

"Quite fun?!" Ginny hissed. "You mean you _enjoyed_ Malfoy flat-out telling you that he's going to make your life at Hogwarts completely _miserable_?!"

Er, no, not quite, Gin dearest.

I shook my head, "I meant the part about where I told him off." I grinned. "Usually I get into the habit of standing there like an idiot and then only thinking up a good comeback, like… forty million years later." I paused. "Ish."

"Well," Ron laughed, "It still doesn't stand against Hermione for slapping him."

She did _what?!_ That little…

I clenched my fists at my side, subconsciously hoping that no one noticed. "You did WHAT?!" I screeched at her, totally aghast.

I love that word. AGHAST. Isn't it lovely? It's lovely!

Hermione shrugged. "You'll learn that sometimes Draco Malfoy brings out the worst in his peers."

I groaned involuntary. "Madame Moscovitch said the same thing about me in third year." I rolled my eyes and grinned. "But you have to admit, it was right funny! I'll be forever remembered at Durmstrang as the girl who –" I stopped myself and scratched my head.

"The girl who what?" Harry asked, leaning forward.

Well, Curious George, I'll tell you!

"The girl who…"

Drew the picture of the headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, on the side of the left-block-building after being inspired by catching him in the showers and seeing him in _all his splendor_. (Although "splendor" really is the totally opposite word for what it was… Involuntary shudder, anyone?)

"The girl who…"

Lit her own Quidditch team's brooms on fire in a desperate attempt to burn the other team out of the finals. (I wasn't aware they were _our_ brooms, okay?!)

"The girl who…"

Slathered butter over her entire body – minus the catsuit she was wearing - and then proceeded to roll in the grass, gathering dirt and twigs on the way, then sticking tree branches in her hair and running through the quad while her friends – who were in on the prank – ran screaming, "It's the Blair Witch! The Blair Witch! Everyone run!" (The suit was itchy, and my hair was oily for a week… I am _so_ never doing that again.)

"The girl who…"

Ran naked in the quad the following year, with four banana peels stuck in her hair, waving her arms madly and screaming, "They've got my nose, they've got my nose!"

I paused.

No way am I telling them that.

Seriously, it's not like I ever had any intention of living my worst moments in the quad… They were all _dares_. And who - tell me now – _who_ backs out on a dare?

"The girl who isn't going to tell you what she did, because that would be very, very bad." I shrugged. "So, you're all in Dra- I mean, Malfoy's year?" I glanced at Ginny. "Besides you?"

Harry nodded. "Yup." He said. "Sixth year."

"How do you know Malfoy?" Ron asked suddenly.

Er, he's my brother?

Ooh, I'm so gonna play with them.

Well, hello, my little pets! Let's see how far this game shall go, _non_?

"Family." I said truthfully, then decided I should continue since they were just kind of staring at me. "Oh, come on, everyone knows the Malfoys…"

"Sure," Ginny said, "But that doesn't mean they _know_ them. Malfoy already knew your name."

I shrugged. "It's no big thing. Just… family… You know, silly pureblood nonsense."

"Ah…" Hermione said uncertainly. "So you're a pureblood…"

"Wouldn't have gotten into Durmstrang if I wasn't, most likely." I said with yet another shrug.

Do they not like purebloods? What the hell?

What kind of witch or wizard _does not_ like a pureblood?!

What is this world coming to?!

I smiled playfully. "I suppose it's all good, though. I've heard there are muggleborns in Hogwarts, which should be mad fun. The only muggle I know is my Aunt Carolina's husband, who shouldn't count really, as he's a bit on the senile side. In a mad funny way, of course."

"You like muggles?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

Er, duh.

"Sure." I nodded. "What's not to like? They don't have magic, no, which really is a pity, as they're missing out on a lot, but they're pretty rad nonetheless. I especially like those, er, what do you call it? Films?"

"Hermione's a muggleborn." Ron supplied.

"I know." I said before I could stop myself.

"You did?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her brow.

Well, yeah! What did I just say, missy?

I nodded. "Sure. It's the name. Granger. Never heard it before. Must be muggle."

"That makes sense." Ginny giggled. "What's your last name, anyway? If you're a pureblood, maybe we know some of your family."

Er, _pour quoi_, you silly thing, you? Now that I know that my brother is, like, all time "wanker," I don't really want to be spreading around the fact that we're related… I mean, come on…

How am I ever going to have a life if I'm always walking in my brother's footsteps?

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Hermione asked.

See what I mean?

Sheesh.


	6. Really, Now

**::Disclaimer:: **Okay, well, I don't own Harry Potter. I do own Lucy, though. But since she's a Malfoy, I can't say she's ALL mine (since, let's face it, she'd be _nothing_ without Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco, lol).

**::AN::** Wow, sorry for the long wait, you guys! But guess what?! It's my birthday today!! Cool, huh? I know I should be out doing stuff, but most of my family isn't awake yet so I'm all, "Um, uh, okay... Maybe later?" lol Anyways, I love you guys! I don't have time to respond to reviews (that makes me feel bad!) but I'll try to do it next time! Oh, and sorry for any errors you may find in this chappie, I just finished most of it, and I reread it, but I probably missed some stuff, like always (sorry!). Hope you like! _Please review_!

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**Chapter 6**

I shrugged and was about to say, "Oh, my last name is Malfoy. As in, my full name is Lucinda Katarina Malfoy. As in, my mother is Narcissa Malfoy and my father is Lucius Malfoy. And yes, my brother is Draco Malfoy." And even go on to say how Katarina means 'pure' in Latin, which goes to show just how pent up my family is about the whole "pureblood" biz. (Katarina also means 'virginal' but we won't get into that, now will we?)

But, anyway, I didn't even get a chance to say more than, "Oh, my last name –" before the compartment door banged open again and my brother stood there, standing stupidly like the idiot he is.

"Can I help you, Malfoy?" Hermione said coldly to him.

Draco sneered at her, but then turned to me and spoke. "Come with me, Lucy. There're things that need to be done."

I shook my head and scowled at him, "I don't want to –"

"I don't care what you want, you idiot." He spat back. "Come on with me, you need to be sorted. That old hag of a headmaster keeps changing his mind about what he's going to do with you."

"Don't speak like that about Dumbledore!" Ginny hissed.

Draco rolled his eyes, but continued to glare at me. "Are you coming, Luce? I haven't got all day to be running your little errands."

I raised an eyebrow as I stood up. "I'm going, I'm going…" I mumbled as I turned back towards Harry and the others and shrugged. "Wish me luck, eh?"

Brother-of-mine rolled his eyes again and grabbed onto my elbow. "Let's go." He hissed and pulled me out of the compartment.

"Ow, that's my arm!" I hissed at him as he pulled me down the aisle. I tried to stomp on his feet as he dragged me along, but as he was walking in front of me, my sad mission was kind of pointless.

After what seemed like a million years – can you imagine how my arm felt by then? Draco has no compassion for his younger (and only) sister – Draco shoved me in a compartment and before I could turn around and say something along the lines of… Okay I don't know what I would've said. I probably would have had one of my wild-animal moments or something and attacked him, but whatever.

I looked around the compartment curiously. It was _empty_.

Turning back to Draco as he shut the compartment door, I scowled. "Really, Drakkie, you had plenty chances to rid me from your life at home. I've already met The Boy Who Lived and His Friends, so don't you think it would be just a _wee_ bit suspicious if you attempted to off me now?"

He blinked at me and then his face got into one of his less-attractive, contorted-with-rage expressions that he's gotten into the habit of wearing around me. All the time. "For your information, Lucy," he spat icily, making me jump clear out of my knickers (well, pretty damn close, I tell you), "I do _not_ want to 'off' you, as you so call it. I brought you here so that I could talk to you, you self-absorbed ditz."

I stared at him blankly and opened my mouth to say something (Merlin only knows what I would've said. Maybe something like, "Mrfrglfnk" or what have you.) but quickly shut it when I saw his face get even more rage-contort-y.

"Sit." He ordered.

And I sat.

It's times like these that I don't know who I should call for help.

Granted, no one really knows me, so they'd be all, "What? Lucinda who? Draco's torturing her? Oh, who cares?" and continue pigging out on Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans or whatever it is they eat here.

I thought of calling out for mum. (In the insane instance that people at GREAT distances could hear me.) But then I remembered that she's fully Draco-oriented so she'd probably just smile and give him a nice pat on the back while she left to go eat beans with the Hogwarts-y crowd.

I pondered the thought of calling out for Dad, but… Really, what would he do? I was pretty scared of my father (Merlin bless him), and right now Draco seemed to be pretty much the total _image_ of him. The image of my father, I mean. Which means I was scared of my brother.

But as he's my brother, the whole "fear" thing didn't last too long. After he took a seat across from me, I tried my best – which, I assure you, isn't as pitiful as it sounds. I _am_ a Malfoy, jeez, have some respect – to regain my scowl as I regarded his blonde tallness – even though he was sitting down – in front of me.

"You lied, then?" I asked him. "To those people? You lied to them? I'm not going to be a sorted. I'm going to have to sit here. With you. Alone."

Draco laughed then. I mean, he outright LAUGHED, although it wasn't very pleasant. It was actually kind of freaky. (And the "fear" returns…) "Lucy, listen!" He said once he had calmed down enough to form coherent sentences. "First of all, it doesn't matter what The Prat Who Lived and His Friends think, is that clear? You are, by no means, to become involved with any one of them, or any of the sort they prance around with."

I gawked at him. "If you mean what I think you mean, I think I'm going to be sick. That's disgusting, Draco. I may sort of hate the way you treat me – and, well, the house elves – but that doesn't mean I'm about to get _involved_ with The Boy Who Just Won't Die."

Draco smirked, but he looked slightly bemused. "I didn't mean romantically involved, you know."

I nodded. "I know. Obviously." Riiight. 'Cause that's _exactly_ what I had been thinking.

Can you imagine, though? Being romantic, I mean. With _Harry Potter_.

Well, now that I've met him up-close-and-semi-personal, I can't say that I actually don't _wonder_ but –

Oh, never mind. I'm going to go crazy if I keep on with this.

There was a long moment of silence. I tried to keep on with the staring contest Draco was having with me, but I had to blink, and so after I did, he said, "The Boy Who Just Won't Die, huh? I like that."

I rolled my eyes. Of course he would like that. "Don't kid yourself, Drakkie. I bet you're probably boiling with jealousy at him right now."

"I AM NOT JEALOUS OF HARRY BLOODY POTTER!" He bellowed.

In an effort to keep things light, I said, "That's not his middle name, is it? 'Bloody,' I mean. Poor bloke. And I thought the thing about his parents was sad. Can you imagine? Bloody."

This, however, seemed to mellow my elder sibling out a little as he regarded me for a moment. I thought that he'd maybe confide in me for a short mo and tell me exactly WHY he seemed to hate the Potter-boy so much (well, besides him being all anti-Dark-Lord and all, really), but he just rubbed his chin for a moment.

"I wanted to discuss some things with you, Lucinda." He said, getting all full-first-name on me. "Do you think you could act as though you're not as immature as you are for a few minutes?"

Me? Immature?

Well, yes, but I'm FIFTEEN! Name one totally-mature fifteen-year-old and I'll, well, I'll… I don't know what I'll do, as I've totally lost my point. Or this argument. Self-argument. Whichever.

"Whatever you say, cap-i-ton-o." I said as gravely as possible.

Really, I'm just a comedian stuck in a fifteen-year-old-pureblood-witch's body, you see?

Or, well, maybe not, but that's just you, I assume.

Draco gave me one of his looks (no, not the rage-contort-y one, but close) and opened his mouth to speak at me ("speak at me"… Is that grammatically correct? I think not.) "Lucy," He said seriously. "Do you know what house you want to be sorted into?"

I shook my head slowly. "Um, no. I don't even understand the whole 'house' thing? What's it do?"

"It's where you'll live for the next two years. Not including the holidays." He added.

I blinked at him (oh come on, what else was I supposed to do? Applaud? Are you daft?). "Um, okay. So, whatever. Who cares? All I know is that you're in Slithery, right?"

"Slytherin." He corrected, although he started coughing afterwards, smirking a bit.

"Right." I said, as though I hadn't made a mistake whatsoever. "Slytherin. And Dad was in that place, too, right? And Mom."

"Yes." He nodded.

"Okay." I said and we sat there for awhile before I sighed all fake-heavy-like and went, "But really, who cares?"

He scoffed at me. "You are, by far, the stupidest person I have ever met."

I had to roll my eyes at this. I mean, seriously, am I the only one who noticed the two huge-o codependent individuals (is that an oxymoron? Codependent individual. Really, now.) "Whatever, oh platinum-hued-one. Are you just going to call me stupid or is there actually a point to this business?"

"There's a point." Draco sneered. Lovely sneer, Brother Dearest. Keep up the good work! "It is, that you _must_ be sorted into Slytherin. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." I replied.

"Good." He nodded again, moving to stand.

I hesitated. "Well… That 'crystal' I mentioned? Yeah, it might have a few spots on it."

He sat back down. "What don't you understand, Lucinda? When the sorting hat is placed on your head in Dumbledore's office, don't even THINK of letting it place you in another house. If it even suggests it – which it shouldn't, unless you're that much of a disgrace to the Malfoy name – don't back down. If you do as I say, you won't be placed in any other house."

I bobbed my head up and down in what I hoped was a nod, but I'm not quite sure that it was. "Okay. Slytherin it is."

He stood up and made for the door, but I made a squeaky sound (don't ask, okay? I don't know how it happened, honestly! I thought I go over that squeak-age thing! HONESTLY!) and he turned around, a bored look on his face. "But, Draco," I whispered, looking around out of the corners of my eyes suspiciously, even though no one else was in the compartment. "What if I don't get into Slytherin?"

Draco nodded. "It's already been discussed between Dumbledore and Mother. I'm not sure of the details, but they'll most likely change your name and forbid you from speaking of your true relation of the Malfoy family. And you'll have to act as though you don't know me." And with that he quickly exited the compartment.

Okay, wait, back up! Rewind, people!

They can't do that!

Um, can they?

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Oh, God, that was almost frightening. I am never – EVER – riding in one of those horseless-carriage-things again! I am so going to be sick. I am going to be sick all over the two boys who rode with me all the way to the castle.

What are their names? Oh, I forget. I am so nauseous.

Gah, even the word "nauseous" is making me nauseous.

If that makes any sense. Which, well, okay… I think not.

"Are you alright?" The shorter one asked me. "You look like your going to vomit!"

Way to state the obvious, little man.

"Do you need some help?" The older questioned, raising his hand near my arm. I think he was going to rub my arm in comfort or something like nice people do, but my _do-that-and-you're-dead_ look probably made him think better of it. Thank Merlin.

I shook my head, then stopped mid-shake (heh, mid-shake… shimmy, anyone?) and nodded. "Professor… McGonagall…?"

The boy nodded, his blonde hair doing a cute (but nauseating - even the tiles on the floor were making my stomach go all woobidy) _WOOSH_ thing. "Sure, the first years haven't crossed the lake yet. Follow me, then." He turned to the short boy. "Stay here, Dennis, alright?"

Short Boy protested in an utmost annoying way. Oh MERLIN, I'm going to upchuck my lunch! (Wait, did I eat lunch? I forget, I think I was holed up in my room at the time. Oh, dear Merlin in Wherever-You-Are, please don't give me dry heaves. Those are SO gross.) "I'm not a baby!" He practically shouted and opened his mouth to bellow some more before I rested my hand on his shoulder half for support and half for threatening-purposes.

"Listen, short stack." I said coolly. (Although it sounded kind of raspy, as I was trying not to breathe while I spoke, as doing so promotes vomit-age.) "Let the Slightly-Taller-One show me where the professor person is and I swear on everything I own that I won't hurl my lack of lunch all over your tiny little body."

Mr. Shortness just nodded and kind of gulped (well, he DID gulp, I was just being nice when I said he "kind of" did), backing away.

"Right." Blonde-Taller-One said to what-was-just-then-registering-as-_Dennis_ as he ushered me down another hall. "Professor McGonagall!" He called at a tall, middle-aged woman. "Professor!"

The lady turned around swiftly (GAH… my stomach can't handle this! Why is everyone moving so fast?! What's the rush, I ask you?!) and studied the two of us for a moment before nodding her head curtly at some students nearby (oh, hey, look it's Hermione! Hi Hermione! Okay, um, FINE, don't notice me here, all pale and dying-like) before shooing them away from her. "Miss…" She hesitated.

"Oh." I paused. "My name's… Lucy." I blinked and wobbled a bit. "Well, it's really Lucinda but, I mean, ew." I sort of leaned on the blonde boy for support. "And I mean 'ew,' I think I'm going to be sick."

"Mr. Creevey, you're dismissed." Professor McGonagall said stiffly and I tried to sympathize with her (she wear her hair in a really tight bun at the nape of her neck, see? Like me. Except my bun is loose and considerably sloppy, which allows my face to move. She probably can't move properly.).

The blonde boy gave me a small smile before rounding the corner in the direction we had come from (at least I think so... How big is this place?). "He's nice." I said to Professor McGonagall, although I'm not sure why, as I usually have this "issue" with authority figures (I mean, I didn't draw a _proportional_ mural of Karkaroff for nothing. Well, if want to call if proportional, sure. Although it really wasn't… It was rather tiny, you see… Oh, gross, I'm going to spew all over the bun-lady.). "Smells like soap." I added.

Professor McGonagall still looked rather stiff, though (how tight IS that bun?!) and she just nodded to me. "Follow me." She ordered.

And I followed.

What the heck else was I supposed to do? Really!

Plus, I secretly hoped that wherever she was taking me, there would be a toilet I could relieve myself in (and I mean vomit, not pee, thank you). Or at least a bucket. Oh, Merlin, maybe two buckets at this rate.

After awhile we stopped and I was too busy trying not to walk into her back from my momentum of walking so fast while trying not to ralph all over the marble flooring. I heard her mumble something under her breath, but I still couldn't look up. The pounding in my head was slowly subsiding (but not enough), and I figured that any sudden movement would hinder me hereby barfing.

Professor McGonagall had me follow her up a staircase that (I'm not kidding) winded up all spiral-like. I was so going to share my breakfast with her. I even looked at her and went, "I had ham with my breakfast."

You know, just in case my vomit turns out to be some horrid green color or whatnot and she doesn't think I'm, like, dying.

She didn't seem to understand, apparently, since she just stared at me for a moment and then knocked on a door in front of her. Don't ask me how the door got there, or how we got to the door. I seriously don't remember walking. Maybe Professor McGonagall carried me, I have no idea.

She doesn't look ver strong, though.

Then again, neither do I, but Draco does and I'm tougher than he is.

Ish.

"Come in, come in!" I heard an old man's voice call.

So we stood there for another forty minutes or so, checking out our nails. McGonagall mentioned that she hadn't gotten a manicure since the Dark Ages, and I was all, "Oh, really? I go to this really great place in Knockturn Alley. It's fantabulous, let me assure you." She seemed really interested and so I wrote down the address for her while we talked about our hair and what products we thought worked better. It turns out that the ultimate life question really _is_ 'Pantene or Frieda?' She can't decide either, unfortunately.

Um, no. That didn't really happen.

Obviously.

We walked into a circular office, where a white-haired man (he had a super-long beard. I was sort of scared that he might be hiding spare hunting wands in there or something. No, really, I was.). He told me to sit and did a total eye-twinky thing at me.

I know, talk about a ten on the lame-o scale. Eye twinkling is _so_ first year.

Back when I was in first year, I mean. Oh, gah, I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.

"Lucinda Malfoy." He said softly in a wise, old voice (um, really, he sounded wise… Don't ask how you can simply SOUND smart, but whatever. He totally could, so back off). "I'm very pleased to meet you. I am Albus Dumbledore."

Ah. The 'old hag.'

I nodded at him and tried to not think bad thoughts, as it didn't quite feel right. I thought that maybe he could read my mind.

CAN YOU READ MY MIND, OLD MAN?!

"It was such a disappointment that you couldn't join us in your first year." He continued.

Okay, I think not. About him reading my mind, I mean.

Unless he can, but he's not showing it.

Okay, that's it. No more thinking.

"I went to Durmstrang." I supplied for him. He might not know that. He might also not know my favorite color, but you can't get choosy, now can you?

Good ol' Igor knew my favorite color. I know, because I enchanted a set of his robes to that ONE COLOR, so that it couldn't be removed (unless by my wand). Hey, I had to prove that he wears the same robes all the time, right? Well, it worked…

And he does. Wear the same robes all the time, I mean. Way gross, yeah, but not my problem.

The Hogwarts Headmaster smiled for a spilt-second (I wonder if I was imagining it) and said, "I'm aware of that, Miss Malfoy." He paused to pull a small bag on his desk towards him and reached his hand inside. "Lemon drop?" He asked me.

I beg your pardon? What kind of school is this?!

And I said that. I said, "I beg your pardon?" but not "What kind of school is this?" as I thought that that would be taking it a bit too far. Because, really, it's not the entire school's fault that their headmaster went for a bathroom break when they were doling out sanityness.

I mean, look at Durmstrang. Look at Karkaroff.

I rest my case.

"Headmaster." Professor McGonagall said in a bit of a warning tone (ooh, getting testy, are we? I think I'll take a lemon drop, thank you).

"Sure." I reached my hand out to the headmaster and he blinked at me. "It's muggle stuff, right? I tried it a few years ago. Mad sour." He just blinked at me, so I waved my hand a bit. "Um, can I have one?"

Then I realized that he could be trying to poison me or something, so I pulled my hand back all slow-like and went, "Okay, um, so am I going to be a sorted soon?"

McGonagall stepped forward immediately as Dumbledore recovered and popped a lemon drop in his mouth (he also set one down on the desk in front me, but I didn't touch it. I value my life, thanks). "Here you are." McGonagall said as she placed a raggedy old hat on my head.

Okay, what the heck? I mean, seriously. As if my hair isn't bad enough as it is, now I'm going to have hat hair.

And I still feel queasy! Geez!

"Well, what have we here?" A little voice inside my head said in an amusing way.

Oh. No.

Now I not only have a lisp, the worst luck in the world, hat hair, and other such problems, but now I'm paranoid that I'm going to be killed by my new Headmaster (poisoned! Can you _get_ any lower?) on my first day!

Oh, and I'm hearing voices in my head.

I've officially gone mad.

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::AN:: I'm kind of obsessed with cliffies on this fic... I promise that later on the clifferism-stuff will seriously die down, but right now I need to get people all interested and what have you! (lol)

Okay, so, what house should she be in? I haven't really decided yet, so I'm not just asking you to be all, "I already know, but I wanna know what you want." I _need_ to know! (GAH!)

Also, in case people get confused... The blonde boy was Colin Creevey and the "shorter" one was Dennis. I think it's pretty clear, but I have to say that just in case, lol.


	7. Segregation and the Desire of Sex

**::Diclaimer::** I don't own Harry Potter. Sorry, folks. Really, I wish it was mine! But, um, it's not, so... Moving on, shall we? lol

**::AN::** So... chapter seven rolls around... YAY!! Sorry for the delay and all... And thanks for all the reviews, I luff you guys! The next chappie should be posted soon as well, but I'm also working on my new fic (which, erm, isn't posted quite yet - but it will be soon, I swear!!) Anyways, hope you like!!

**Chapter Seven**

"You've not gone mad." The voice said. "I'm here to sort you. Did no one tell you?"

Um. Yeah. What is it with this school and segregation, though? Seriously!

"You seem to have a will of your own…"

So you agree? About this segregation nonsense, I mean. Really, it's a bit weird. I mean, you've got your griffins and your snakes –

"That's _Gryffindor_ and _Slytherin_. You have a high intelligence. Higher than any other first year I have ever seen before…"

Um, maybe that's because I'm a fifth year.

"Yes, I see that now… Hmm… Interesting…"

Dear Merlin. Imagine if the fate of the world rested in your hands. Or, lack of hands, whatever. We'd all be dead. How hard is it to realize that I'm not a first year? Honestly!

"Very interesting…"

Are you going to segregate me or not?!

"I can see that you're loyal… But I see a desire to prove yourself…"

I desire sex sometimes, too. Did you want to know that as well? I have dreams about sex, you know. Or, well, what I think sex would be like. It looks like fun.

"Honestly, child, I'm trying to sort you."

Correction: You're trying to segregate me. I can see through you're little masquerade-thingy. You remind me of an old, ugly hat I knew once. Oh, wait, that's you.

"I can sense a portion of great bravery…"

Blah dee blah dee blah.

"You're fit for Slytherin, you are."

Yeah, I know. It runs in the family, or so I hear. Can't let the Mom and Pops down, you know. It would be disgraceful. I'd have to run away and join the circus or something. Or, well, whatever it is that the black sheep of the family do.

"But… You're so very loyal…"

We've been over this. I'm loyal. Like a dog, right? No, don't answer that. I don't think I'd take kindly to being compared to a dog. I mean, I'm not dog-like, am I? Can you see me? Do you have eyes? I'm not _that_ ugly, am I?

"I see great things ahead of you."

Ooh, let me guess, I'm going to get a proper pedicure sooner than the Winter Holidays. Please let that be it. Please, please, please.

"It's a tough choice… But I've seen enough… Better be…"

Have you? You sure you don't want to stick around a bit? I've got some valuable info in here, you know. Hey, did you hear the one about the porcupine and the wildebeest? No? I'll tell you, then.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

McGonagall pulled the hat off of my head and I blinked up at her from the chair. "Aw, come on, I was getting to the really good part." I half-whined.

See, I don't whine anymore. I fully put the whining behind me back when I put diapers and breast milk behind me. And I am never going back to either of those. Trust me.

McGonagall stared at me for a few moments before turning to Dumbledore. "The first years will be arriving soon, Albus." She said in her stiff-like manner.

I was sitting there, gazing longingly at the lemon drop that Professor Dumbledore had put in front of me when it suddenly dawned on me. I looked up at Dumbledore. "Ohnonononono." I said all in one breath.

The 'old hag' simply raised an eyebrow at me and twinkled again behind his half-moon spectacles. (By the way, where are my spectacles? Where did I put them?) "I'm in a huffy puff." I said, not even remembering my own sorted name-thing.

Professor McGonagall didn't seem to mind that I had gone full black sheep in just a few moments time. She held the sorting hat in her arms and said to me, "Follow me, Miss Malfoy."

"No!" I cried, turning to Dumbledore, since he seemed to be the only one paying attention to my well-being. "What about the snake place?!" I exclaimed. "I can't go into a huff and puff! You don't understand! Draco –"

"I'm sure you're brother Draco is very happy that his younger sister is now attending the same school as him." Dumbledore said gleefully.

"What are you talking about?" I asked dryly, totally trying to ignore McGonagall's impatient glances from me to the door. "I'm not in _Slytherin_. He's going to kill me. He's going to filet me alive. He's going to go on a horrible rampage. It'll be total chaos! He'll back up the floo network! He'll maim the first born of every muggleborn family! He'll eat nothing but spinach and steal everyone's left shoe!" [A/N: South Park tribute right there.]

"Miss Malfoy," McGonagall said in a tight-lipped way. "If you would please follow me."

I gaped at Dumbledore as he smiled at me. He pushed his half-moon glasses up his nose and said, "I am to believe that your brother is allergic to spinach."

I nodded. He was totally getting it! "Like I said! Total chaos!"

"The feast begins soon." Dumbledore said, walking around his desk. "Miss Malfoy, if you would follow Professor McGonagall and myself to the Great Hall, we could get on with the sorting ceremony."

I blinked at him, but shook my head, trying to clear it of _I'm-going-to-be-massacred_ thoughts (didn't work, by the way), and followed the two geezers.

Well, what else was I supposed to do?

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

I was totally not in the mood to talk to anyone. Why was everyone so keen on talking to me? What's so special about me? Um, sure, I'm the new girl, but really. There were, like, tons of other new kids that showed up the same day as me. Granted, they were, like, two feet shorter (well, practically), but they were still new.

"We don't get too many transfer students." One boy was saying to me. "Most people prefer to stay at whatever school they started out in."

Well, if it's any constellation, slightly-big-nosed-boy, I didn't _want_ to come here. Honestly.

I meant 'consolation' didn't I? I'm sure I did. Whatever, I was never one to master the English language. Even though it's, well, the only language I know.

"Where did you transfer from again?" A girl was asking me.

"Durmstrang." I said mostly to the spinach on my plate.

Spinach. I peeked over at the Slytherin table, but it seemed that Mr. _I-can't-think-on-my-own_ numbers One and Two were blocking my view of Draco with their massive bodies. Honestly, how did they ever become so large? I overheard someone calling them "Crabbe and Goyle" (actually, that someone might have been Draco but I'm not entirely sure), and I just can't understand that because I remember them, then. I remember Christmas parties and high-speed broom races.

They weren't so huge then, let me tell you. Then again, that was, like, fifteen years ago. Or, well, you know what I mean. It was a long time ago.

"So, what year are you in again?" Someone asked me. Male or female, male or female? I was too confused to take notice.

"Fifth?" I said, becoming unsure of it myself.

"So why did you transfer here?" The girl next to me asked.

I blinked at her. "Because my Mom told me to." I said as she gave me an odd look.

"You look like someone I know." The _'we-don't-get-too-many-transfer-students'_ boy said, pointing his fork at me while he chewed with his mouth full.

I stared at him. "Um. Sorry?" Well, it seemed worthy of an apology… I mean, he didn't know it yet, but that person he knew? Yeah, Draco. And judging by what I overheard some boy 'warning' a first year about, Draco wasn't exactly well liked among the Hufflepuffs. (Look, see? I remembered: Hufflepuff.)

I stole a glance over at the teacher's table-thing. Dumbledore seemed to catch my eye and he twinkled at me.

Honestly, he needs to stop that. Thank Merlin I toned out his long speech once we arrived in the Great Hall. Like I assumed, he didn't introduce me or anything. And, really, why should he? I'm only a transfer student. I'm sure I'm not the only transfer student to ever waltz these halls. (Although, now that I'm on the subject: What is up with waltzing? It's kind of weird, if you ask me.)

"What did you say your name was again?" The boy asked. I swear, he asks a lot of questions. It's like he can't shut up for two seconds.

"Lucy." I said with a mouthful of spinach, although I think he got the message. That my name is Lucy, I mean. Not that I had a mouthful of spinach. Even though I did. Have a mouthful of spinach, I mean.

"Lucy…?" The girl next to me asked, trailing off at just the right point to indicate that I should tell my last name.

In a quick save, I tried to smile (not easy to do with spinach-mouth, let me tell you) without opening my mouth as I pointed to my lips and looked at her apologetically as if to say, "Talk with food in my mouth? Now why would I do that?"

Even though I so had just seconds before. But, really, she didn't seem as annoying as the dude with all the questions.

"Malfoy." I said finally when I finished swallowing my spinach.

It was then that all of the people within hearing range of me turned to gape at me. And the ones who were aware that a few people around them hadn't heard, quickly elbowed the people seated near them and so on and so forth until pretty much the whole of the Hufflepuff was gaping at me.

Question Boy decided to take matters into his own hands, however, as his jaw practically met with the table in front of me. "You're a MALFOY?!" He exclaimed loud enough for the entire Hall to hear.

Why, yes, you silly thing. Now could I eat? Oh, what's that? No? Well, why not? Because now EVERYONE'S staring at me? Oh, I see.

I tried not to look around, I really did. But I couldn't help it. I looked. And, sure enough, everyone was staring at me. Gawking, really. Not appealing, I must say, as quite a few of my "onlookers" hadn't exactly bothered to swallow their food first. Very sexy, I must say. Not.

My eyes finally met with my brother's across the room. "It's a – It's a –" I stuttered, unable to look away as he stared back at me, just like everyone else in the room. In a moment of sheer insanity, I turned to Question Boy and furrowed my brow at him. "What's with the _stare-age_?" I asked him.

He blinked at me. "You're a… Malfoy." He whispered, although, really, what was the point, when everyone could hear him anyway, it had gotten that quiet.

My gaze flittered back to Draco's for a strategically brief moment. "So?" I asked a little louder than I had intended to.

It was then that my "genius" brother decided to develop a brain as he nudged his fellow Slytherins and started up a conversation. To my great relief, the rest of the Hall followed suit and slowly the small chatter coming from the Slytherin spread across the room until it regained the same gentle hum of voices s it had before.

I wasn't quite finished with Question Boy, though. I stabbed the spinach on my plate violently, in an angry gesture to tell him that I meant business, but which sort of backfired – sending spinach at my eye. "Ow." I muttered angrily, not bothering to wipe it away as I kept my good eye on him (I had to close the 'spinached' one, you see.). "What," I asked as he ad a few other Hufflepuffs watched on, "is so wrong with being a Malfoy?"

"You have spinach in your eye." The girl next to me whispered.

I did the only thing I could think of. I laughed. I wiped the spinach off of my eye with a napkin and looked over at the girl next to me, still laughing. In a moment of pure hopelessness, she seemed to share my craziness as the corners of her mouth twitched and within moments, we were bursting into fits of giggles and holding our hands over our mouths so as not to make a (I mean, another) scene.

"What's so funny? Did I miss something?" Question Boy asked.

I blinked my bad eye a few times as my laughter died down. "What?" I asked him.

"What's so funny?" He repeated.

I stared blankly at him. "I had spinach in my eye." I told him, even though, clearly, he had seen that part. Hadn't he?

"Wow, Justin." The girl next to me said. "Way to ruin a bit of fun. We were just having a laugh." She said, rolling her eyes.

I nodded. "Right, Justin." I said, adding his name for good measure.

The girl grinned and put her hand in front of my face. "By the way," she said. "I'm Margaret Clearwater."

I stared at her hand and slowly shook it, but let go quickly. Whoa, man, what's with the friendliness? Really, now. Just because we laughed together doesn't automatically make us friends.

I learned this quickly once supper was over and we headed to the dorms. Where Margaret abandoned me to "go talk to some people in the common room." I sat at the foot of my bed, looking around the room – I was the only one who didn't want to be in the common room, it appeared.

I was also the only one who seemed to want to have a good cry.


	8. I Can See Their Tongues

**::Disclaimer::** Je ne own pas le Harry Potter. (My attempts at French, everybody. lol) Ne sue pas moi. I hope you can understand that, lol. Anyways, I think you get the gist of it.

**::AN::** So, the... eighth chappie...? I think that's it... lol. Gah, I don't have the window-thing up! I can't do review responses! But I want to! lol I love you people! Thanks for your lovely reviews. And sorry this chap is a bit weird - I need to get the plot flowing, lol.

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**Chapter Eight**

Love is like a broom, racing across the tundra when suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.

This is my life.

I checked my outfit in the mirror. My skirt seemed a little short, but I knew I'd live through it. Or, well, I hoped I'd live through it.

"So, anxious for your first day?" Margaret asked me as she brushed her long chestnut brown hair so that it hung straight down to her elbows.

I turned away from the mirror and fumbled around on my bed, searching for where I had thrown my hair-tie from the night before. "Hurry up girls!" I heard someone call from outside the door. "You're going to be late for breakfast!"

Margaret rolled her eyes. "Prefects… Act like they can tell us what to do."

I gave a quiet "Hooray!" when I found my hair-tie, and turned to Margaret as I tied up my hair. "Um, can't they?" I asked her, still trying to remember all the rules of Hogwarts.

It's not that most of the rules are different from Durmstrang, I mean. It's just that, well, I forget… You know summer does these things to you.

She shrugged her shoulders at me as she picked up her bag. "Whatever."

"You're not a prefect?" I asked her. "Don't they get picked during fifth year?"

Margaret – I think that's a cool name, by the way, but it's kind of long – shook her head. "Well, yeah, they pick them in fifth year, but I'm not a prefect, no. Thank Merlin. I don't want to end up like my sister."

I tried not to trip over as I put my shoes on while I twisted my neck to look over at her. "Who?"

"My sister." She repeated. "She was Head Girl in her seventh year; prefect in her fifth year. It got kind of annoying, with my parents practically drooling over her, you know."

I laughed and picked up my robe, thus adding the final addition to my wardrobe. "They were just proud of her, though, right?" I shrugged. "My mom gets the same way around my brother."

"You have a brother?" She asked and I blinked lamely at her.

It's like she has short-term memory loss, I swear.

I stared at her and tried to hold back my eyebrow-raising instinct (you know, where you "instinctually" raise your eyebrow… Yes, you're getting it now.). "I'm a Malfoy…" I said slowly.

Margaret frowned. "I know, but… It could be a sort of common name, I don't really know…" She shrugged. "I guess I just – Well, everybody knows… They were all there in the Hall. But, I mean… You're in Hufflepuff."

I stared at her like she didn't make any sense. 'Cause, well, she didn't. "Hungry?" I asked perkily to change the subject.

She nodded. "Starved. Come on, let's go before the third years get to the muffins. They eat the muffins like crazy every year. I don't know what's wrong with their year, but it's really upsetting for the rest of us."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Show me."

"You don't want to see it, Lucy."

I held my hand out towards her. "My timetable, Margie." I said to her. "I'll need to see it if I plan on attending classes this term."

"But it's so _horrible_." She whispered loudly.

I looked around, ignoring Margaret's long sighs over my timetable. I didn't see what the big deal was, really. It's not like it was the end of the world or anything. I mean, classes weren't going to kill me.

"You're going to die with classes like these." Margaret went on.

I rolled my eyes and slouched lower over the table. If I were a dog, I think I would be a bloodhound. Because they're really lovable, if you, you know, feed them and take care of them and show them love and… stuff.

"We have DOUBLE POTIONS first thing?!" I heard someone practically shout from nearby.

I turned around halfway in my seat and noticed The Boy Who My Brother Hates A Lot and Company. They seemed to be peering over their timetables, each with a distinct look of disappointment over their faces. Well, joyous day it is for Draco, I suppose. Maybe I should take a picture – he'd like to see those sad, distraught faces for eternity, I'm sure.

He is _so_ not related to me. Well, you know. Sort of. Okay, he is, but don't let that get around, remember? And, OHMIGOD, I cannot believe Margaret! As if Malfoy is a common name! Only the highly privileged and whatnot can be honored with a name such as Malfoy! HONESTLY!

Just then, I saw Hermione look up from her timetable and over towards the Hufflepuff table. She smiled and waved. I looked out of the corner of my eye at Margaret, who seemed to be having an attack of some sort over my timetable still. (No, not really, but close.)

I waved back to Hermione, and she nodded before looking back down at her timetable. She seemed to have a significant problem with her hair, I noticed. It was just sticking up in all the wrong places. Like, on top, for one. What is up with that? Poor girl. Her hair is almost as horrible as Harry Potter's is. His hair sticks up _everywhere_, I tell you. It seems he's tried to grow out his bangs to cover that scar of his, but really, who cares? All it does is add to that whole sloppy effect – because his glasses are totally crooked right now. It's like he doesn't know how to wear glasses at all – it gives a bad name to people who wear glasses everywhere, seriously. I mean

Oh, um. Uh.

He was staring at me. _Look away, Lucy, look away_. I couldn't look away. I could feel my whole face getting warm in that horrible warm way it does sometimes. Why was he staring at me? I suppose I must've blanked out for a moment, and maybe he saw Hermione waving, and so he was curious, but really. There's no need to stare.

I have something on my face. DIE! DIE! DIE! I wonder what it is, though? A bit of muffin?

"Here. I suppose you'll have to look at it eventually." Margaret tossed my timetable in my lap and I looked down.

"OHMIGOD!" I exclaimed sarcastically and flicked her arm with it. "It's the end of the world, Margie! I have Muggle Studies first thing! Oh the horror!"

"Muggle Studies is hard!" Margaret protested. "And stop calling me Margie. I said you could call me Marge like everyone else."

I rolled my eyes and studied my timetable, when I suddenly remembered that my face had become horribly disfigured with muffin-goo. I held my timetable up to my face as though I was studying it carefully, but I turned my head towards Margie. "Margie, Margie. Do I have muffin on my face?" I whispered.

She looked at me for a moment, then shook her head. "No, there's no muffin on your face."

Whew. I set the timetable down in my lap and looked down at it.

"But there's some in your hair."

I gasped at reached my hand up to my hair, pulling the hair-tie out of the back and running my hands through it like a brush. Margie burst into giggles next to me, and I glanced over at her. "What's so funny?" I asked her.

"It serves you right." She said. "For calling me Margie." And with that she stood up and walked away from the table, chuckling to herself all the while.

I frowned and whipped my head to the side when I heard someone say my name. "There's nothing in your hair, Malfoy. Marge was just trying to teach you a lesson." Question Boy From Last Night was saying.

I have a first name, you know. It's Lucinda, which, yes, is gross. But you can call me Lucy. Honestly, I don't mind. Really.

I didn't say that. I said, "What's your name again?" Even though I had just remembered that it was Justin. You see, I hate when people who know my name pretend like they don't know my name. It totally gets me all peeved, you know.

For instance, there was this one girl at Durmstrang who sat in front of me during Transfiguration every year. Then in our third year, when we had a substitute, she did that 'forgetting the name' thing while he was taking role. I remember it clearly. The substitute looked around and called out, "Lila Malfoy." And the girl, whose name was Tawny Thatcher, turned around in her seat and said, "Isn't your name Lucinda?"

And, you know, my name _is_ Lucinda. But it's just _the way she said it_. I hated it. And to top it all off, her little clones started snickering behind their perfectly manicured nails. To get her back, I spent the whole night making a rag doll that had short, curly brown hair like hers and round, hazel eyes. But you better believe, I made that doll as ugly as I could. It still looked like Tawny, though. (Well, obviously, since Tawny is like the epitome of u-g-l-y.) Then, all during class for the rest of the year, I brought the rag doll with me and told her that I had named it after her – affectionately calling the doll Tawny and Titi (my lovely nickname for both Tawny and doll) whenever I got the chance. I spent one whole class just staring at Tawny, while I pet her "namesake" on the head. When I realized that that wasn't enough, though, I started doing things to Tawny (the doll). I won't get into the details, but by the end of the year, her hair was blue, her eyes were red, there were gashes in her face and stomach where puffs of cotton poked through, and her clothes were naught but a few raggedy bits of cloth, wrapped around the body a few times.

Real-life Tawny never bothered me again. And when she spoke to me, she never forgot my name. It pays off, you see. Being a Malfoy, I mean.

I blinked at Justin. Well, um… "Oh, no, no, no!" I shook my head. "It's Justin, right?" I laughed. "Sorry, sorry. I must've blanked out for a minute, there's so many people here, you know. I'm getting so mixed up."

Well, really, I don't want Justin doing anything to me like what I did to Tawny. Seriously.

He nodded and gave a small smile. "See you around." He said before standing up and walking away.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair again, pulling it back up into a sloppy bun at the nape of my neck. I looked around briefly again and jumped about a mile in the air when my eyes landed on the Gryffindor table.

Harry Potter was still staring at me in that blank way, with his glasses practically falling off of his face, they were so crooked. I blinked at him in a blinking way while I finished tying my hair, slowly wrinkling my brow at him. _You are a weirdo._ I said to him in an attempt at telepathy.

Didn't work, I don't think.

I looked away as I stood and shoved my timetable into the pocket of my robe. Believe me when I say that it is so weird being stared at by people you don't even know. It's actually kind of creepy, you know.

"Lucy!" Margaret called out to me as I walked into the Entrance Hall. He beckoned me towards her with a wave of her hand and I turned to walk over to her, but paused when something caught my eye.

My brother. And a… pug.

No, really, she looked like a pug. I had no idea who she was, but judging by her robes, I guessed she was in Slytherin. She was ALL OVER my brother. Her hands were in his hair, her head was on his shoulder, she was standing really close, she was giggling like a hyena, she was –

- Going to die. She was _kissing my brother_. It was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. I wrinkled my nose and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, shaking my head. "Ew, gross." I muttered and turned around, totally not wanting to see that.

"Looks like the Slytherin couple of the year are at it again." I heard someone snicker and opened one eye to see Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter walking out of the Great Hall.

"Oh, hi, Lucy." Hermione greeted me. "How's your first day so far?"

"I'm going to throw up my muffin." I said before thinking properly.

I saw Ginny walk up and she grinned at me. "Afraid to turn around, huh?" She asked me.

I nodded. "Terrified." I whispered loud enough for the four of them to hear. "I swear I'm going to have to drink a Dreamless Sleep potion tonight. That's so disgusting."

"I can see their tongues." Ginny said, scrunching up her face.

"They're just kissing." Hermione said, shrugging.

"They're eating each other's faces off." Ron corrected, but gave me a bit of a glare while Ginny and Hermione laughed. Harry Potter, on the other hand, seemed to be quite the silent-mysterious guy, though. He wouldn't even smile at anything, the great big prude.

"Lucy!" I heard Margie call again, doing her waving thing. I swear, she acts like I'm some dog. I've been over this with the Sorting Hat, but I think I need to have a talk with her as well.

I glanced at Hermione and the others. "Well, I better go before I pass out. Or Margie has an attack." I shrugged. "Whichever comes first."

"Hey, wait." Ginny said. "You have Muggle Studies first?" She asked me.

I blinked at her. "Um. I… don't… know." I pulled my timetable out of my pocket and glanced over it. "Oh, yeah. Muggle Studies." I paused. "How'd you know?"

"We heard you associate it with the end of the world and everything." Hermione answered for Ginny.

I smiled. "Oh yeah. That was a little loud, huh? Sorry, I was just trying to get a point across. Not that it worked, anyway."

Ginny switched her bag to her other shoulder. "Yeah, so, I'll walk with you and Marge if you like. I have Muggle Studies, too." She looked around for a few seconds. "So does Colin, but I don't know where he is right now."

"Who?" I blinked at her.

"Colin." Ginny repeated, giving me an odd look.

Hermione cocked her head to the side. "You met him, didn't you? I mean, I saw you walking with him yesterday."

I looked blankly at her, then went "Aha!" when realization struck me. "Oh, that guy who brought me to McGonagall, yeah! I couldn't remember his name…" I scratched the top of my head nervously. "I was a bit… sick…"

It was then that The Boy Who Stared An Awful Lot chose to speak. "You're a Malfoy?" He asked me in what, I must say, was not the nicest way possible. Prude.

I studied him for a moment before I answered. "Does that bother you?" I asked him.

"Malfoy's a –" Ron started, but was cut off by Hermione elbowing him sharply in the ribs.

I looked down at my shoes. "Well, then." I mumbled. "I'm gonna go…" I turned on my heel and walked right into pug-girl.

"Out of my way, Hufflepuff!" She shouted in my face.

I took a few steps back and bumped into someone behind me, so I stopped walking. Pug-face was sneering at me. "What are you looking at?" She snapped.

I blinked at her, my eyes wide. "Uh… sorry?"

"Stupid Hufflepuff." Pug-face spat. "I should hex you, you puny little transfer." She pulled her wand out of the pocket of her robes.

I took another step back, having forgotten that I was already pinned up against someone, practically.

"Hey, Pansy, come on." Draco said as he walked up next to Pug-face. "Let's go to Potions." He said to her. I blinked. How could he be snog buddies with that… pug?! She was so mean! To ME! To his baby sister! Shouldn't he be totally bashing her face in right now, for threatening me?! Seriously! There is no love here!

Pansy-pug-face shook her head. "Just a minute." She said, not taking her eyes off me as she raised her wand, causing me to take another step back. "Want me to wait? You can get Potter at the same time." Pansy-pug-face was saying as my mind raced and I remembered that I'd forgotten my own wand in my dorm. What was she talking about?

Draco got an annoyed look on his face and he rolled his eyes. "I said let's go, Pansy. Are you coming or not?" He snapped before turning to walk away.

Pansy-pug-face looked confused for a moment, but she looked over in Draco's direction. "Draco?" She called after him as he walked away. She looked back at me and scowled. "Look what you did, you stupid Hufflepuff. Now my boyfriend's in a mood." She raised her wand a little higher and gave me a menacing glare.

I took another step back and heard the person up against my back let out a breath of air. "Um." I said intelligently. (Yeah, right.)

"Shove off, Parkinson." Margie said, walking up with her wand pointed at Pansy-pug-face. "She hasn't even got a wand. I know – she forgot it in the dorms." Exactly! Thank you Margie!

Pansy-pug-face sneered. "Like I care if she's got a wand or not." She laughed. She shrugged finally and put her wand back in her pocket, walking off slowly to rejoin the group of Slytherins a ways off from everyone else.

Margie turned to me and cocked her head to the side. "What's the matter, Luce?" She asked. "Don't know how to defend yourself?"

I jumped towards her and gave her a quick hug. "Yay, Margie to the rescue!" I cheered.

She chuckled as she put her wand in her pocket, but still stared at me a bit funny. "Why didn't you just give her a good punch in the face?"

I looked at her. "Okay, four reasons. One, um, no? Two, I doubt I would so much as bruise my fist with her face. And three, I don't even know her. Why would I 'give her a good punch in the face' as you so say?"

Margie rolled her eyes, but frowned a bit. "Four?" She inquired.

I blinked at her. "Oh! Well, I must have miscommunicated or something."

"Miscounted?" She asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"That's the word." I nodded.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked from behind me and I turned around quickly.

I grinned. "Sure." But my grin quickly faded when my eyes met with Harry Potter's.

Oh, crap in a pile of crap.

That's who I kept backing into!

The ice weasels are coming; the ice weasels are coming.

"Well. Bye, then." I said curtly, turning around and ushering Margie away as quick as I could. When she gave me a funny look as we made our way towards the stairs, I contemplated telling her about why I didn't want to cause any physical harm to Pansy-pug-face, and why I wanted to get away from The Boy Who Should Have Done Something To Make Me Stop Backing Into Him Because It Was Kind Of Weird When I Figured Out It Was Him and His Friends.

But, really, just because we had a few good laughs and she kind of saved me from Pansy-pug-face-slobbery-skank doesn't make us friends or anything. Really.

But still, I kind of wanted to tell her about seeing Pansy-pug-face slobber all over my older/only brother. I mean, having an older sibling of her own, she must have experienced this sort of trauma.

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**::AN::** Someone asked if there would be any "ships"? Anyone want any "ships"... then just gimme suggestions... There's a lot of people to think about here, lol. I don't know! Haha. Anyways, I hope you liked the chap and please review!


	9. There Is Something Worse

**::Disclaimer::** I don't own it. Except Margie and Lucy, lol. Don't sue me plze.

**::AN:: **I'm SO sorry this update took a long time! I'm also sorry ahead of time that my updates will probably be a bit fewer now that school is starting back up (grr!). lol, But I promise to try and update as much as possible. I love writing this fic, sinceLucy is such a weird, pessimistic, cynical character. hahaha. Anywho, I hope you like the chapter, and please review!

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**Chapter Nine**

It turns out there is something worse than getting hit in the face with a ball when you are wearing glasses (which causes the bridge of the glasses to dig into your nose, giving you one of the worse headaches imaginable, not to mention leaving a red mark on your nose for about an eternity – or, well, a few days). This has happened to me. Getting hit in the face with a ball while wearing glasses, I mean. Enough said.

There is also something worse than being gorded alive by a wild boar. (This never happened. It is a metaphor. Thank Merlin's pastel bloomers.)

The thing that is worse than getting hit in the face with a ball while wearing glasses and being gorded alive by a wild boar is having everyone know something that you don't. And having them talk about it in front of you. For a whole class period.

We did this while Professor Whatever-her-name-was was having us read about how Muggles use electronic devices called "telephones" to communicate over long distances, instead of sticking their heads into fireplaces. (Sounds sensible, if you ask me. I'm always afraid something will go wrong and my hair will get singed off. Not to mention my face.)

"I don't get that." I told Margie. "What do they mean, they speak into it? Speak into what? What are they talking about?"

"The telephone." Colin said from directly across from me. "Muggles speak into a mouthpiece called a receiver, and so they're able to be heard on the other end by –"

"The other end?" I interrupted. "There's another end? Where?"

"No, on the receiving end." He explained. "Like when a person can see and hear you in a fire. They would be on the receiving end."

"So… what you're saying… is that if I was talking into the mouthpiece, I wouldn't be on the receiving end…?" I asked him. "So, how would I hear the other person?"

"It's a matter of perspective." He said with a wave of his hand.

I rolled my eyes. "What is it with Muggles? Why do they have to be so weird? I mean, wouldn't it just be easier to talk through a fire? What if you were talking to your kid, and they had a black eye, say? Muggles wouldn't know unless the kid told them, right?"

"Right." Colin nodded. "Unless they were online, using webcam."

I blinked. "Abuh? What?"

"Colin's a muggleborn." Ginny said from next to him. "He already knows everything about Muggles."

I nodded slowly and turned to Colin. "You? I'm sitting next to you during exams."

"Creevy… Malfoy…" Margie shook her head. "No. It's alphabetical. What are the odds of you sitting next to him?"

I stared at her. "Margie, you are treading on my good fortune of having a muggleborn in my Muggle Studies class." I narrowed my eyes. "Don't."

"So you're really a Malfoy?" Colin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Oh no, not this again. What is wrong with this school? "How is that so hard to believe?" I asked. "I mean, I'm blonde. I'm pale. I'm… okay, so I'm not that tall, but… whatever. I've got delicate features. Check out my cheekbones, man. I've got long, funny-looking fingers. And I have ruthlessly cunning intelligence." I glanced around at Ginny, Colin, and Margie. "Malfoys are cunning, you know." I paused. "And ruthless."

"Nah, I don't see you as ruthless." Ginny laughed. "Besides," she said. "You seem a lot nicer than Malfoy."

"You mean Draco?" I raised my eyebrows. "Does _everyone_ call him 'Malfoy'? Don't you people associate by first names? I mean, I know I wasn't gone from England that long but I don't know…"

Margie tapped her quill on the table. "No, there's got to be something that separates you from the other Malfoys. Otherwise, you'd be in Slytherin. Not Hufflepuff."

"I was supposed to be." I told her. "Everyone in my family has been in Slytherin. And the itty-bitty insignificant ones that haven't been were marked off our family tree in the parlor and –" I blinked. "Ohmigod, you don't think that's going to happen to me, do you? No, I'm sure my daddy loves me too much for that to happen."

"So you're really Malfoy's sister then?" Colin asked.

I nodded. "Yeah." I paused. "You know, he's not as mean as everyone here thinks he is." Ginny snorted and I went on. "No, really! I mean, he's mean now, yeah. But he didn't used to be. He used to be really cool. You know, for a brother."

"Well, what happened, then?" Margie questioned.

"He came to Hogwarts." I shrugged. "He got mean after that."

"My brother got real cocky after his first year here." Ginny said suddenly. "I think it was all that hanging around with Harry that he did, you know."

Margie nodded. "Yeah. I used to talk to my sister all the time, you know. We were practically inseparable. But then once she got her prefect badge, she changed a lot."

I looked up from my textbook. "Aw, you guys!" I laughed. I turned to Ginny and furrowed my eyebrows. "Why does anyone even hang around with that Harry guy? I mean, he's famous, right? But he's kind of weird. And quiet."

"Harry's all right." Ginny replied. "He's kind of quiet now, yeah. But I suppose he's more quiet around people he doesn't know." She shrugged. "He used to be pretty fun and all that, but lately he just kind of keeps to himself."

"He's nice, though." Colin chipped in. "Everyone likes him. 'Cept the Slytherins."

"I know." I said. "My brother hates him. He told me to stay away from him and his friends."

Ginny chuckled and grinned at me. "Considering my brother Ron is Harry's best friend, I'd say that that includes me too."

Margie let out a short laugh all of a sudden. Honestly, she's crazy. I mean, who just laughs randomly like that? Over nothing? I think no one. Except Margie. And crazy people.

"Colin, where were you at breakfast, anyway?" Margie asked, still grinning over her secret/insane laugh. "You missed Parkinson threatening to hex Lucy."

I groaned as Ginny laughed and Colin leaned forward. "What happened?" He asked, looking from me to Margie.

Don't tell him, Margie! Don't tell him!

"Okay, so, she was standing there talking to Harry and them, right?" Margie continued. (GAH!)

"I wasn't talking to 'Harry and them.'" I corrected her. "I was talking to Ginny and Hermione. Because they are nice. And they don't glare at me evilly or ask random questions all of a sudden."

"Ron doesn't like Malfoy at all." Ginny said to me. "Or any Slytherins."

"Anyway." Margie said boredly. "Lucy wasn't watching where she was going and then all of a sudden, she bumped right into Pansy Parkinson. Pansy started going off about how she was going to hex her and everything, and Lucy just kept backing away, right into –"

"Harry." Ginny finished, giggling. "Oh, you should have seen his face! He was watching Pansy, but he was so aware that Lucy was backing up against him and –"

"Yeah, okay, anyway." I said quickly. "Telephones."

"It was pretty funny." Ginny said to Colin, who had a sloppy smile on his face, apparently trying not to laugh.

Har, har, har. Very funny, people. NOT!

"Hey, are we having the DA this year?" Colin asked Ginny.

The DA? What? Speak English, good fellow!

"I don't know." Ginny shrugged, casting a glance my way.

What? What did I do now? What is this?!

"What's the DA?" I asked her.

Colin and Ginny exchanged a look and Colin said, "It's nothing" just as Margie opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when I let out a small squeal.

"Ow!" I yelped, glaring in Ginny's direction. "Was that you? Why did you kick me?!"

Ginny looked dumbstruck for a moment until she finally blinked and said, "Spasm. Sorry."

Yeah, RIGHT! Ohmigod, OWIE! Seriously, maybe Draco had the right idea about these people being insane and all. Or, well, he didn't say that, but THEY ARE! I rubbed my shin for what felt like an hour and we all got back to reading about telephones for the rest of class.

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By the time lunch rolled around, I was too tired to function in my proper, happy manner. "Food." I said longingly as I followed Margie into the Great Hall.

"Come on." She said, walking away from our regular spot (okay, so we sat there _twice_, but whatever) and towards another table.

I followed her reluctantly, plopping down next to her on the bench and resting my head on the table. "I am going to die." I said into the wood.

Margie patted my head for a second. "I told you so." She said lovingly (not).

I lifted my head up suddenly and looked around for a second. "I'm lost." I said, frowning. "Where are we?"

"Gryffindor table." Ginny chirped up from in front of Margie. She wrinkled her brow at me. "Didn't you hear me invite you two to eat lunch with me at the end of Muggle Studies?"

I blinked at her. "I was sleeping at the end of Muggle Studies." I said, barely acknowledging that a few people were sitting down next to and across from me. "When did this happen?"

"We were walking out of class." Margie said.

"Well, _we_ were walking." Ginny corrected. "You were shuffling about aimlessly while Colin steered you towards the door."

"I've never done that before." I said, gazing at a goblet in front of me.

"Done what?" Margie asked as she buttered a biscuit.

"Fallen asleep reading." I answered, rubbing my eyes. "What's next?"

"Check your timetable, I have a free period." Margie said and I slowly pulled my timetable out of my pocket.

"Oh." I grumbled as I read my schedule. "Free period. Then Arithmancy. Kill me now."

"Professor Vector a wonderful teacher." Someone next to me said. I turned my head slowly and blinked at my "neighbor" through half-closed lids.

"Hermione? Is that you?" I said meekly.

"For Merlin's sake, Lucy." Margie laughed. "Just eat something."

"The turkey is really good." Ginny piped up.

"I had a turkey once." I said, twirling my fork in my hand. "His name was Gobble and we ate him in December."

"Ew." Margie said just before she took a bite of mashed potatoes.

"You ate your pet?" Ginny asked me slowly.

I shook my head. "No… I had my brother eat my share. I was too… what's the word? Drought."

"Distraught." Margie corrected me.

I nodded. "Exactly." I shrugged. "He was really fat, though."

"Who? The turkey or your brother?" Margie asked as she broke a cookie in half.

I thought for a moment and then shook my head. "No… I was thinking about Quack." I paused when Ginny gave me a look. "He was a duck." I informed her.

"Was?" Ginny gaped at me. "You didn't eat him, did you?"

I nodded my head solemnly. "Mom told me it was chicken. I didn't know."

"Ohmigod." Margie said with a mouthful of salad, so that it came out more like, "Ermagah."

I shrugged. "Whatever. My head is getting all foggy again. I don't even care." I set my head back down on the table and tried to drown out the voices around me.

It didn't work.

"So, you guys." Ginny was saying. "Colin won't shut up about me asking you about the DA. So, what's the verdict? Is there gonna be a DA this year?"

"Umbridge is gone." A guy said. Who was that? Ron? When did he get there? "Moody's pretty scary, but I guess he's all right."

"We haven't had him for class yet." Hermione was explaining.

I looked up. "Why can't you guys keep a Defense teacher? What is up with that? What happened to all of them?"

Margie laughed. "I don't know who was here before first year, but… Lockhart turned out to be a fraud, Lupin resigned, Mad-Eye got kidnapped, and Umbridge disappeared." She shrugged. "Now we've got the real 'Mad-Eye' Moody. Didn't you pay attention when Dumbledore introduced him last night?"

"Dumbledore freaks me out." I told her and Ginny choked on her juice. I shrugged. "He seems a way better headmaster than Karkaroff, though, so no complaints here."

"Why'd you go to Durmstrang, anyway?" Ron asked me suddenly and I turned to look at him, since he was sitting across from Hermione.

"Because I didn't want to –" I paused when my slow-moving brain finally acknowledged who was sitting across from me. WHAT THE HELL?! Crap! "I didn't want to come here." I said to Ron, then proceeded to twist my napkin to distract myself.

"Huh." Hermione thought for a moment. "Why not?"

I shrugged. "No reason." I put my head back down on the table. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Ginny and Margie chorused together, giggling.

"Why are you so tired?" Hermione asked and after a few moments of silence, Margie poked my side and I sat up, looking around groggily.

"Me?" I squeaked at Hermione and she nodded. I shrugged. "Muggle Studies. Then Divination. It was a total snore." I smiled then. "But Divination was fun! It turns out Margie's dying this year!" I grinned. "Joy."

"Wow." Margie said dryly. "Well, I'd rather it be me this year than that poor girl in Ravenclaw. She got it two years in a row, poor thing."

I laughed. "That lady is so freaky." I shrugged. "I guess you have to be a little out there to be into that Divination thing."

"Why are you even in Divination if you don't like it?" Ginny asked me.

I shook my head. "I like Divination. It's funny."

"Don't listen to her, she's insane." Margie said, pointing at me with her fork.

"It is." I said. "Plus, it gives me a good naptime."

"I get it now." Ginny said with a laugh. "You know, you could just drop it and have a free period. You're already taking enough classes, right?"

I blinked at her. "No, don't do that."

"Don't do what?" Ginny frowned.

"You're confusing me." I told her. "That's… I don't know, I'm getting dizzy again." I thumped my head back onto the table, but brought it up again suddenly. "Ohmigod. Is every day going to be like this? Margie, you're right. I am so going to die with these classes. I need to drop them."

"All of them?" Ginny smirked and I furrowed my brow at her.

"Yes, all of them." I said with a serious expression. "And then I'll join the Chudley Cannons and die a horrific death at the hands of a bludger."

"Seriously?" Ginny gaped at me.

I blinked. "No! Are you insane? Quit school? Merlin's socks, no! Never!" I rolled my eyes. "And Quidditch? Oh, don't get me started."

"Thank you!" Margie cheered. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"You don't like Quidditch?" The Boy Who Sat In Front Of Me And Finally Spoke asked, staring at me in that blank way he does. Okay, so _now_ he speaks. _Great_.

I shook my head. "No… Quidditch is all right." I shrugged. "I don't like flying."

"Why not?!" Ginny exclaimed, leaning forward.

I blinked at her. "Because." I said. "It makes me sick." I paused. "Kind of like those horseless carriage things we had to ride in yesterday. Oh, I'm getting queasy just thinking about it."

"Motion sickness." Margie nodded. "A lot of people get that."

I shook my head. "No… It's just a… queasy thing. Forget I said anything. Who needs brooms anyway? And… carriages…? And the muggle things with the wheels…"

"Cars?" Hermione offered.

I nodded. "I mean, I can walk. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Exactly." Ginny nodded, obviously trying to be supportive. "Then there's always portkeys and floo powder."

I grinned enthusiastically. "Of course! Except Mom disconnected us from the floo network ages ago. She said it went out of style. There are always portkeys, though!"

"You know, from what I've heard of your mom," Margie said, her brow wrinkling. "She's really, really weird."

"Well, yeah." I said, giving her a look that said 'obviously.' "I mean, she gave birth to my brother. You've got to give her credit for that, though, right? I mean, seriously."

"So, did he really come out of her demanding silk sheets and everything?" Ginny asked.

I nodded at her. "Yes. I took pictures. Would you like to see?" I rolled my eyes when she just gave me a blank look. "No! Honestly, what is with this total hatred-thing towards him? What has he ever done to you?"

"I'll fill you in later if you have a few free hours." Margie said with a small smile.

I rolled my eyes and thumped my head back onto the table. "This is so not my day." I said into the table.

Just then, I heard Harry Potter speak, but I tried my best to ignore it. "I'm going to the common room."

Okay, so I heard him. What of it? It's not like I was paying attention. Exactly.

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**::AN::** Please Review! I hope you liked this chapter! Thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed so far! I love you all! You totally inspire me to write more of Lucy's twisted world! (lol)


	10. You Smell Like A Boy

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::Disclaimer:: I don't own anything you recognize. Lucy and Margie are mine, though! (muahaha)

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::AN:: Thanks for the awesome reviews for the last chapter! You guys are really great!

xkuroxshinobix: LOL, okay! I'm updating! Yay, I hope you like this chapter!

TheManWhoLetTheBoyLive: First of all, your nic is awesome! (lol) And, yeah, I know Pansy is gross, lol. Anywho, I hope you like this chapter!

msj: YAY, my faithful reviewer! I'm glad you like reading Lucy's perspective, because I like writing it (teehee). And, school always sucks, so no big deal, lol. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!

Tintalu: Yes, Hufflepuff. (lol) Thanks for the review! I hope you like this chapter, and I'm glad you liked the other stuff!

lark277: I'm glad you like it! Here's more! (lol) I hope you like this, too!

Thicketgirl: Your review made me laugh. I didn't really do that on purpose at first. You know, the whole "Lucy loves and hates her brother at the same time" thing. I just kind of based her actions toward her brother on how I act towards my brother and sister (teehee), and I guess it kind of grew on that. But, hahah, that's the only part Lucy's based on me… I don't think I'm that self-centered… ANYWAY, thanks for the review, and I hope you like this chapter, too! (lol)

* * *

Chapter Ten

I let out a low grunt when I felt a sudden pain in my side. I raised my head slowly, glaring in Margie's direction as I looked up. "Either I've suddenly contracted appendicitis or –"

"No, you're fine." She grinned and grabbed my arm. "But… you're coming with me."

I turned to Ginny. "What is she talking about? Do you know what she's doing?"

Ginny just giggled and shook her head. Honestly, that girl giggles a lot. It's funny – since it's, you know, contagious – but it's kind of weird.

"Bye Gin; bye Hermione." Margie nodded her head to them and grabbed hold of my upper arm.

Oh, ow. That's ATTACHED, you know! Geez! I scowled at Hermione to show my utter disbelief that I was being manhandled (practically) by Margie and she just smiled at me. "Okay, okay." I said, standing up and brushing "dust" off of my lap. (I say "dust" because really, there was no dust there. You know how that is.) I nodded to the Gryffindor table and said, "Right, toodles people, I must go off and do…" I looked at Margie out of the corner of my eye. "What is it that we're doing?"

"Killing Colin." She said simply.

I nodded and turned back to Ginny. "Right, right, right. We're killing –" Opening my mouth wide and whipping my head around to face Margie, I screeched, "We're _what_?"

"No time to waste." She said in a mock-sweet voice. "Let's go now."

"Bye." Harry Potter and Ron chorused in monotone voices. I wrinkled my brow at Ginny, who just shrugged and rolled her eyes.

"Yup, okay." I said. I shrugged at Margie and looped my arm through hers, dragging her slowly out of the Great Hall through semi-loud choruses of 'We're off to kill Colin, the wonderful Colin of Creevey!" and 'Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it's off to kill Colin we go!'

By the time we got to the Entrance Hall, I was already shivering like a madwoman. "Margie, why are we killing Colin? What did he do?"

"We're not really going to kill him." She said, narrowing her eyes at me. "We're just going to duff him up a bit."

"How… manly…" I said just as we heard footsteps coming up closely behind us.

"Hey!" Ginny exclaimed just as she walked up next to Margie. "We decided to tag along with you guys. You know, since we don't have anything better to do."

"We?" I asked her, Margie and I exchanging a look.

"Yes… us." Hermione said, walking up beside Ginny and flashing Margie and I a grin.

"Oh, just you two, then?" I laughed. "This should be great. Colin's going to get supposedly-duffed up by four girls."

"And two boys." Hermione said, shaking her head and giving me a confused look.

"Er, what?" Margie echoed at the same time as me and we both looked around for a moment.

"Oh, hi Harry, Ron." Margie said when she looked past me for a second.

I glanced over to my left and jumped about four feet into the air (okay, no, not really). Harry Potter and Ron were walking right next to me, each with their own disgruntled expression on their faces. "Oh, hi." I said so quietly that I'm not even sure if they heard it or not, but they both nodded at me anyway, their faces unchanging.

"So, we're going to kill Colin." Margie told them.

I frowned and tugged on her arm a bit. "But, why? You won't say why!"

"I know why." Margie told me. "And that's all that matters."

I glared at her for a few seconds before I shrugged. "So, where's this Colin-boy at? Isn't he in Gryffindor? Shouldn't he have been at lunch?"

"He's in the library, I'm pretty sure." Ginny chipped in.

"Right…" I furrowed my brow. "Which is why we're going outside…?"

"Oh no, no, no." Margie shook her head. "We aren't going outside."

"We were never going outside." I corrected her (and… myself? Gah, I don't know.)

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked suddenly as she ceased walking, a look of confusion on her face.

"Nothing." Margie shrugged. She stopped walking and after a few seconds, we all stood there staring at her. She's insane, really. I fully believe this.

Margie nodded to me. "Lucy, I need you to do something for me."

I looked at her suspiciously. "Not if it has anything to do with…"

"I need you to sit here with us and watch something happen."

"Exactly." Ginny nodded fervently.

I shook my head slowly. "Um… why?"

"Because…" Margie plopped down onto the floor behind a large pillar and patted the tile floor around her to signify for the rest of us to sit down. "I didn't really think I needed… so many people…" She shrugged. "But this is good."

I sat down across from her and narrowed my eyes. "What are we doing? Why are we sitting on the floor? Are you even aware that it's cold? No? Well, I'll tell you! It's cold. And –"

"Shhhh!" Ginny hushed me and scooted further behind the pillar along with Harry Potter, Ron, Hermione, and Margie. "Margie, tell them."

Margie nodded. "Ginny and I were walking out of Muggle Studies when we heard Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode walking by, okay?"

I nodded. "Oh, Millie? Yeah, I haven't seen her in years! How is she?"

"Um." Margie blinked at me. "Yeah, anyway. We heard them saying that a certain Slytherin boy would be dumping his girlfriend near this very spot today just after lunch. So… we wanted to see." She shrugged. "We'll kill Colin later."

I nodded. "Oh, okay. So, who's dumping who?"

"I don't know." Ginny shrugged. "I think maybe it's Malfoy dumping Parkinson."

Man, I hate it when people go by their last names. It took me awhile to even comprehend who she was talking about.

"Oh." I said, furrowing my brow. "So… Draco's going to ditch… um… what was her real name again?"

"Pansy-pug-face is what you so lovingly called her in Muggle Studies." Margie smiled smugly.

I nodded. "Right! So, Draco's going to… Hey." I paused. "Why are we watching this? I mean, isn't getting dumped all personal and everything?" I gasped suddenly. "Oh, what if she cries? I can't watch that! She'll start crying, and then I'll start crying and then –"

"Why do you care?" Ginny laughed. "She threatened to hex you."

"But she's still, like, human." I paused. "Well, okay, she may not look it but I'm sure that deep –very, very deep –down, she's-"

"Shhh!" Margie hissed. "They just walked out of the Great Hall! Lucy, get back!"

I craned my neck around for a moment, not making a move to do as Margie told me to. "What?" I whispered.

"Merlin! Someone grab her before they see her! Grab her! Grab HER!" Margie hissed loudly.

"Oomph!" I declared into the chest of whoever grabbed me. (Um, I do not know?)

"Shhh!" Someone from next to me (ish?) hissed loudly.

"They stopped walking. I can see them." Margie was whispering. "He let go of her hand."

I huffed into the chest of whoever grabbed me (Gah, I still don't know!) and realized that it was a boy. (No breasts, you know. Well there are "breasts." They're called pecks, though. I think.) Scrunching up my face, I tried to turn my head to the side so that my face wasn't squashed against Ron's (I have deduced that it is Ron.) chest so uncomfortably.

No, it didn't work. All I ended up doing was letting out a small squeak of a sound and putting my hand on Ron's shoulder, trying not to slide onto the floor and have my face fall in his lap. (See, that? That would be even more uncomfortable, you understand.)

"Oh, yeah. She's crying. He's done it. She's officially dumped." Ginny said from some direction I couldn't really place.

"Well, he hugged her, so maybe she's not dumped." Margie whispered. "Maybe he just told her he cheated on her or something."

"Ugh, that is so disgusting. I can't believe he would do that." Hermione said in a low voice.

"He's a Malfoy." Ron replied and I make a grunting noise, trying my hardest to spit out "Ohmigod, I'm a Malfoy, too!" but it came out more like "Ohmgah, Mmm aff doo."

And that's when I realized that I wasn't squished against Ron's chest. (Oh no, no. Not Ron!) I was squashed against Harry Potter's. (OHMIGOD! They are so lucky that Draco didn't see us! Seriously!) For some reason, I felt my face get a little warm and I got a sudden about-to-vomit sensation in my stomach. It must be from being so close to Harry Potter. Draco's hatred towards him must be rubbing off on me.

"Well, she's still crying." Margie was saying. "And… she's walking away."

"And…" Ginny added. "He's not following her. He's going back to the Great Hall."

I sighed into Harry Potter's chest. (What else was I supposed to do?) "Oh, that is so sad." I said, but it came out more like, "Oh, da oh add."

"Yeah." Margie laughed. "Right. Pansy will get over it in a few days. She just needs to go find a new guy to cling to and it'll be all set."

"Oh." I breathed into Harry Potter's chest. "So, are they both gone? Is it safe to be let loose yet? My neck is starting to hurt just a little." I managed to say sort-of clearly and immediately felt a small weight being lifted off of my back. (Oh, that would be Harry Potter's hand, everyone. Excuse me while I go jump into the lake to cleanse myself!)

I sat up semi-straight (it was a little difficult, considering the really weird position that my legs had been twisted in) and tried to push myself up with my arms, but I ended up touching The Boy Who Smelled A Lot Like A…Boy's thigh. "Oh, sorry." I mumbled, trying to scoot away from him.

"Did you see that black stuff on her cheeks?" Ron was asking Ginny, Hermione, and Margie. "What was that?"

I looked up at Harry's face as I backed away and gave a small smile. "You smell like a boy." I informed him, then turned to Margie. "Hey, do you think we should go find Pansy-pug-fa… I mean, Pansy?"

"No." Margie said, giving me a funny look. Just as Hermione quietly informed Ron, "It was mascara."

"Which direction did she go in?" I asked her.

"She went that way." Hermione pointed to a set of stairs. "But the staircases have already changed. You couldn't find her even if you wanted to."

I shrugged. "Okay, then." Standing up and brushing the dust (real dust this time, ew!) off of my robes, I turned to Margie. "So, a whole free period. What do you people do around here for a whole free period?"

"We study." Hermione said as she stood up along with the others. Study? Study? Is she insane? I get enough of class in… class!

I blinked at her and turned to Ginny. "I ask again! What do you people do around here for a –"

"Colin! We kill Colin!" Margie exclaimed, rushing past me and running in another direction.

I paused and stared after her for a moment until her footsteps completely died away. "Yeah…" I said slowly, turning back to Ginny and Hermione. "I have no idea where she's run off to, so I'm just going to go back to my common room, then."

"Oh, hey, you didn't already to the Muggle Studies homework, did you?" Ginny asked me.

I blinked again. "Homework? We had homework? Where was I? Was I conscious?"

"No." She shook her head and laughed. "It's, um, a foot of parchment on telephones, just so you know, then."

I nodded. "Right, telephones." I wrinkled my brow. "A foot long? Are you serious? What's to write about telephones? They were invented, like, way after floo powder and they work really weirdly. That's all!"

"Well, yeah." Ginny shrugged. "But you just have to say that in twelve inches of space." She grinned. "Think… big handwriting."

I nodded. "Yeah, like I said… They were invented way after floo powder." I counted the words on my fingers. "That's already seven words. Plus my name… middle name for good measure… Maybe my mom's maiden name to add some flavor… And, whoop, there you go! That's almost ten inches!" I smiled to Hermione and Ron (but not to The Boy Who… I don't know what he did, but he's stupid!), turning on my heel and walking a few steps towards the stairs that I knew led towards the Hufflepuff dormitories. "Bye!" I called behind me as I jumped up the stairs.

000000000000000000000000000000

"So, how did the murder go?" I asked Margie as she flopped down onto her bed, gazing up at her ceiling.

"Huh?" She slowly turned her head towards me. "Oh? The…? Oh, yeah! Oh, he's still among the living."

"Drat!" I said sarcastically, snapping my fingers.

"Hey, I saw Pansy on my way out of the library." She said, propping her elbow up so that she was (almost) sitting up.

I looked up from the letter that Draco shoved in my face on my way to the common room before he stalked off, completely ignoring me otherwise. "Yeah? Did you talk to her?" I asked her.

"Of course not!" Margie shot me a dirty look. "Anyway, she wasn't crying anymore. I passed her while she was talking to Blaise Zabini, so it looks like she's completely over your brother."

I shrugged. "Okay."

"Hey, what are you reading?" She asked me.

I looked back down at the letter. "Just… a letter. It's from my dad."

"Oh." She looked at me for a moment before opening her mouth and closing it (a bit like a goldfish, really). "Is it okay if I ask you…?" She trailed off.

I frowned at her. "Sure. Ask me anything, I don't care."

"Okay." She said hesitantly, sitting up in bed and looking around, even though there wasn't anyone else in the dorm room as they were all outside or in the common room. "Your dad…?"

I nodded. "My dad…?"

"Is in Azkaban." She said finally.

Oh, yeah. That.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I know."

"He's in Azkaban because…" She took a deep breath. "He's a Death Eater."

I nodded, looking down at my lap. "I know."

"So… you're okay with that?" She asked. "You're okay with your dad being a murder – I mean, a Death Eater?"

I began folding the letter so that I could place it back inside the envelope, shrugging. "No…"

"Listen, Lucy." She said in a sort-of-hushed voice. "I've only known you for about a day. But you don't seem like the Death Eater type. I don't know, maybe it's all an act or something, but –"

I looked back up from the envelope. "Look, I just don't think about it. Or… talk about it. I even made a point to ignore my mom when she explained the whole thing to me this summer."

She frowned. "Why not?"

"Because…" I shoved the envelope under my pillow. "No one likes my dad. So I don't talk about him. My dad isn't very nice to muggleborns or half-bloods or anyone he has a problem with. So I don't think about him." I shrugged. "But he's still my dad."

"So… how long have you known that your dad's a Death Eater?" She asked.

I hugged one of my pillows. "Um… Well, technically… forever. But I only really understood what was going on when I was about… seven...?"

She nodded. "I guess I get that. It's like when people's families have weird habits. The kids don't usually realize that their families are any different until they start school or something."

I shrugged. "Well, it's not like my family's different from other people's. I mean, we still act the same at home…" I smiled as I twisted the corner of the pillowcase. "Except my mom likes my brother better, and my dad doesn't really get along with him."

"Ah, you're a daddy's girl." She giggled.

I shook my head. "Not anymore." Shrugging, I stood up. "Okay, it's off to Arithmancy, yeah?"

000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"If you're happy and you know it clap your hands."

Ginny and Margie each exchanged a look as we made our way down to the Quidditch pitch. "They are so immature." Ginny rolled her eyes.

I skipped alongside Colin, our arms looped together. "If you're happy and you know it and you really wanna show it, if you're happy and you know it clap your hands!"

"What comes next?" I asked him, trying not to explode with laughter like I had been for the past twenty minutes.

"Stomp your feet." He said. "Although it might be a bit hard to stomp your feet while you're walking."

"Oh, thank Merlin." Ginny breathed and grabbed my other elbow, pulling me away from Colin. "Come on, Lucy. You get to watch Quidditch tryouts with us."

"Oh, who cares?" Margie rolled her eyes. "It's for Gryffindor. I'm telling you, Gin, Hufflepuff is going to win that cup this year if I have to join Quidditch myself."

"Why don't you?" I asked her and she gave me a reproachful glare, as though I should have known the answer already.

Um, no, Marge. Care to fill me in?

"Come on! Hermione's over there, too, so we won't be all alone!" Ginny cheered ecstatically.

I guess not.

"Hi!" Hermione greeted us as we settled onto the bleachers next to her.

"I still don't see why we have to be here." Margie whined for the millionth time. "I am not a Gryffindor, you know."

"Here, here!" I cheered quietly as I sat down on the bench in front of them. See? It's only been a few days, and I'm already showing some awesome Hufflepuff-pride. Go me!

Ginny shrugged. "Well, I have to be here. Even if I'm not doing anything." She turned to Hermione. "Where'd Ron and Harry?"

Hermione shrugged. "They went to go help some of the people trying out. They should be back, though. They're not choosing who will make the team and who won't."

"If you're happy and you know it stomp your feet." I mumbled as I tuned out Margie, Ginny, and Hermione arguing over whether or not Quidditch was an entirely important sport and if Hogwarts should really spend so much time focusing on it instead of studies. (Hermione and Margie seemed to be on the same side until Margie made that comment about how she thought it was kind of funny in her second year when Harry shot a Patronus at me. I mean, Malfoy. I mean, Draco. See what I mean? Confusing!)

I was about to turn around and ask them just what the hell they were talking about, when I heard Ron's loud voice as he came towards us.

"COLIN CREEVEY!" He boomed. "Will you _please_ remove your brother from my sight before I disfigure his face permanently and –"

"Hey!" Some short kid was whining behind Ron and Harry Potter as they all stood before us.

"Oh." I said to the short blonde boy. "Short stack!" I grinned. "It's Dennis, right? I remember you!"

"You yelled at me." He snapped in my direction.

"I was delirious." I shrugged. "It's those carriages. I mean, I'm sure I'm not the only person in the history of Hogwarts to get –"

"_Actually_," Hermione began. "In _Hogwarts, A History_ –"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Colin, tell your brother that he can't pick fights with Abigail Hark during Quidditch tryouts."

"Dennis, you can't pick fights with Abigail Hark during Quidditch tryouts." Colin said boredly.

"Who's Abigail Hark?" Ginny furrowed her eyebrow in thought.

"First year." Harry answered her.

"Aw." I said to Dennis. "Sounds like the little man has a wittle cwush on Abigail."

He blinked at me. "I'm going back to the common room." He said flatly and stalked off in mere seconds.

"Oh, I'm good." I complimented myself as I reached down to sift through my bag.

"Hey, Lucy, I think you're onto something…" Colin started until he was cut off by Ron.

"What was that?" He scoffed at me.

I looked up at him from my peaceful (ish) little bench and squinted at the sunlight behind him. "I solved your Dennis problem. He's gone now. And he's not even mad at anyone but me."

"That was very nice of you." Margie patted my shoulder.

"Oh, I try." I said as I turned back to my bag. "Hey, Margie, have you seen my Transfiguration book? I didn't have it last class and McGonagall said she'd take points if I didn't have it by Monday."

"Haven't seen it." Margie shrugged and started in on a quiet conversation with Colin. I swear, they're awfully chummy for "friends."

"Did you leave it in the library?" Hermione asked me, taking a small glance inside my bag as well.

"Hah!" Ginny laughed. "Lucy in the library… you're funny, Hermione."

I shrugged and hoisted my bag over my shoulder as I stood up. "I'll go look for it."

"You need help?" Margie called after me.

I waved my hand carelessly as I skipped down the steps and onto the field. I do not need a chaperone! Seriously. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna get lost or anything.

Fifteen minutes later, I was lost.

"Crap." I said to a wall just before I kicked it.

Oh, ow. Smart move, Lucy. Now I can't feel my toes.

"Lost?" I heard someone call behind me.

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::AN:: Who could it be? Draco? Ginny? Margie? Justin? Dennis? Harry? Snape? You-Know-Who? (Um, no, it's not You-Know-Who, lol.) Anywho, please review! I hope you like this chappie, and chapter eleven should be coming up soon! (yay!)


	11. Um What?

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::Disclaimer:: I don't own it… Just the plot and some OCs, but whatever. Don't sue me!

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::AN:: Again, sorry for the delay. School is torture. But, here you have the eleventh chapter! Wh-hoo! I hope you like it!

gloomy: I know, cliffhangers… (lol) Well, you find out about the "someone" right away, so I hope that makes you happyish, lol. Anyway, thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter!

TheManWhoLetTheBoyLive: Sorry, it's not Voldemort. (lol) But I hope you like the chappie anyway! Thanks for reviewing!

sweetiepiepirate: I'm glad you like my fics. That makes me feel all warm inside (no, really, it does). And I'm glad you laughed, as I like laughing and making people laugh and all that good laughy stuff. Thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter, too!

devilz child: Thanks! That's so nice! I'm glad you like the fic, thanks for reviewing! ps: She's not playing pranks yet, no. But keep in mind that she's been at Hogwarts for… what? A week? Give her time! (lol)

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Chapter Eleven **

"Lost?" I heard someone say behind me.

I turned around suddenly and blinked a few times. "Um. No?"

"Where ever you're going, you're going the wrong way."

I blinked again. "Oh? Am I? Maybe I wanted to be…" I looked around for a moment. "…A cold, damp corridor that smells like rotting flesh…"

"Right."

I rolled my eyes. "Just what are _you_ doing, Draco? Hunting down poor defenseless Hufflepuffs to pick on?"

He gave me one of his famous 'I-am-so-much-better-than-you' looks. "Did you read the letter I passed on to you?" He asked me.

I nodded slowly. "Um, yes. It was kind of boring, really. I mean, I don't care about half of the stuff Dad was going on about. I almost fainted just looking at it."

He rolled his eyes. "Do you have it?"

"Have what?" I cocked my head to the side. What was _he_ going on about?

"The letter." He said, holding his hand out. "I need it back."

"It was addressed to _me_." I told him. "You can have it over my dead body."

"Don't push your luck, Lucy." He snarled at me.

Man, is he annoying or what? "Don't push you're luck." Like he would ever cause me physical harm. Not in a million years, kiddo.

I smiled a sweetly as I could. "I don't have it with me. It's in my dorm. And, no, you can't have it. It's not yours."

"I just want to read it." He said, taking a step towards me. "You can have it right back."

I shook my head. "Look, it's not my fault that you're a spoiled little brat and Dad didn't write a letter to you, but-"

"He did." He interrupted me.

Well, then.

"Whatever!" I threw my hands in the air and turned away from him, walking down the corridor.

"Listen, Lucy!" He chased after me. I hate that he's super-tall. Even if I walk really fast, he can still keep up with those long legs of his. How am _I_ short? That is so not fair. "I need that letter." He said. "It's important."

"Believe me." I said. "It's not. It's boring. I mean, I love Dad and everything but, Merlin!"

"Lucy." He grabbed my arm. "I need that letter. Do you want to see Father ever again or not?"

I was about to fling a good punch or something equally violent his way, when I paused, noticing someone behind Draco.

Merlin's. Fluffy. Pink. Legwarmers.

"Drake." I said in a warning tone and he quickly followed my gaze, turning around and dropping my arm.

"If it isn't the Golden Trio and their little friends." He grumbled at them.

I blinked at Ginny, Margie, Colin, Hermione, Ron, and Harry Potter. They must have come looking for me after I ran off to find my Transfiguration book! How long were they listening to Draco and me?!

"Sod off, Malfoy." Ron spat angrily.

Honestly, who is he speaking to? Draco? Me? Both of us? If it's the latter then he better watch his back because no one, and I mean no one, tells me to "sod off." Or, well, my family either, but I can take the fact that he hates my brother into account and sort-of forgive him. Ish.

"Um, hi, Lucy." Ginny said a little too happily (trying to lighten the mood, loosen the tension… I see. Smart one, Gin.) "We were all bored, so we figured we'd come help you look for your Transfiguration book."

I raised my eyebrows at her. I mean, I still wasn't sure whether her own flesh and blood had just told me to sod off or not. "I haven't found it." I told her as icily as possible. (Which, really, wasn't that "icy," considering it was really nice of all of them – excluding The Boy Who Needed to Straighten His Glasses – to come help me look for my book. Who can be mean to that? I think no one.)

"Lucy," Draco grabbed my arm again. "Come with me."

"Ow!" I squeaked as he dragged me in another direction.

He didn't even wait until we were out of earshot to start in on his lecture. I watched as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, clearly exasperated. With me. Oh boy, here it comes.

"What have I told you about these people?" He hissed at me. "Honestly, Lucy! Two _mudbloods_, two _Weasleys_, and _Harry Bloody Potter_?! How can you even -"

I clamped my hand over his mouth and turned to face the people he had just mentioned (and, might I add, he was very rude. I mean, they could _hear him_!). "Hey, what's your middle name?" I asked, nodding my head towards Harry Potter.

They all blinked at me, so I repeated my question. There was a long moment of silence until Harry Potter finally said, "Um… James…"

I turned back to Draco. "See? I told you. It's not Bloody."

Draco just growled at me (seriously, he _growled_. Talk about a weirdo.). "I won't tell you again, Lucy. And get me that letter. Or else." He stalked off, his robes billowing behind him fashionably (I ask again, how does he do that?! Why can't I do that?! What is wrong with this world?!)

"You've forgotten that I don't take orders from you, you – you – you – GAH!" I yelled after him. "And you can forget seeing that letter! You don't need it! It's not going to change anything!" I folded my arms over my chest and stood there, facing the direction he had walked off in.

Honestly, whoever invented siblings needs to have a good smack in the back of the head. I'd say that would mean my mom would get a good smack in the back of the head.

I'm good with that.

"Lucy?" I heard Margie echo my name quietly.

"What?" I snapped a little angrier than I had intended.

"Um." She walked up next to me and placed her hand on my shoulder. "Do you… need anything?"

I shrugged her hand off. "I'm fine." I said and she nodded.

I tell a lie. I'm not "fine."

"He's just so _stupid_!" I exclaimed. "It's like… GAH! Never mind!"

"Okay." She said hesitantly.

I hate being grumpy. I hate people knowing that I'm grumpy. Actually, I don't even like people knowing when I'm genuinely happy or sad or anything. Emotion isn't something people should just go around, showing off to everyone like a new wand or something.

I clapped my hands together suddenly. "Trelawney!" I said excitedly.

"Er, what?" Margie stared at me like I was crazy.

I don't blame you, deary.

"My Transfiguration book!" I jumped up and down for a second. "I left it in Divination!" I shook her by her shoulders. "Margie, you're a genius!"

"I am?" She questioned.

I paused. "Well, there's room for improvement but –"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes. "Do you want to go get your book now or just wait until we have Divination tomorrow? We have it just before Transfiguration."

"Oh, why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?" I waved my hand in the air lethargically.

"I don't think that's how it –" She started, but I shushed her with a look.

Should I tag along with Margie and her friends like usual, or go get my book? Hmm… don't know.

"Well, we were just going to the library to –" Margie began hesitantly.

Go get my book, it is!

"I need my Transfiguration book for that essay." I said suddenly, walking slowly backwards. "Sorry! I guess I'll just have to pass out in – I mean, visit – the library some other time."

000000000

I skipped down the corridor, hugging my Transfiguration book to my chest. What a glorious day.

Well, sort of.

The point is, Professor Trelawney totally complimented my hair. She said it was very pretty. Well, she didn't use those exact words, but, really, I wasn't paying that much attention to her. I suppose it's habit. I mean, I ignore her in class, so why listen to her any other time?

Because she compliments my hair, that's why.

And who, tell me now, who, doesn't like a nice compliment? Especially one about their hair, which they themselves happen to despise?

What's that? Oh? You can't think of anyone?

Told you so.

When I finally reached the Great Hall for dinner, I couldn't see Margie anywhere. Not even at our regular spot. (You know, where we sit in the morning while Ginny fixes her hair, Margie agonizes over my schedule (she never shuts up, by the way), and I bang my head on the table, trying to wake myself up in time for my classes.) I glanced around for a few seconds and saw Ginny sitting at the Gryffindor table with Hermione, Ron, and Harry Potter, but decided not to bother them. After all, they only put up with me because I follow Margie everywhere.

Do you think I'm clingy? Oh, Merlin, I hope I'm not clingy.

Worse, do you think Margie and them are just putting up with me because I'm the pathetic little new girl who doesn't know anyone?

Involuntary shudder, anyone? I hate when people do that. Put up with me out of pity, I mean. Not involuntary shudder. Although that's annoying as well.

I sat down at my regular spot at the Hufflepuff table and looked around at the food hesitantly. This school is trying to make me fat, I swear. It's like I'm a pig. Not a pig in the "Ohmigod, Lucy, you're such a pig" fashion, but, like, the "oink oink" fashion, you know? They're fattening up for some feast, seriously. Then they'll all go cannibalistic on me and chow down on, like, my esophagus.

But, I mean, it's not like I'm paranoid or anything.

"Malfoy." Someone next to me said.

I rolled my eyes without even turning to see who it was. "Honestly, people." I mumbled. "It's Lucy. You don't see me going around and calling you –" I turned then. "Oh. Hi… Justin." It took me a second or so to remember his name (oops?).

He just raised his eyebrows at me and let out a low chuckle (what, might I ask, is so funny, huh? TELL ME!). "So, how are your classes, Ma – Lucy?"

Ma Lucy? What are you? French? I don't have anything against the French, don't get me wrong. But… "ma"? Can you stick to one language please? It's not like I'm bilingual here.

I shrugged and scooped a large spoonful of spinach onto my plate. I hope Draco's eating this right now. Jerk. "Oh, they're okay." I lied. Of course that's not true… My classes are going to be the life of me! But he doesn't need to know that.

He nodded and sipped out of his goblet. "You know, you're the only transfer student this year." He said.

Dear Merlin.

I put on a surprised expression. "Wow! Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. We usually have about two or three. It evens out with the amount of students that transfer out versus transfer in."

I blinked and nodded like I understood what he was saying.

"So why did you transfer here anyway?" He asked.

Didn't someone already ask me that?

I shrugged. "Oh, you know. My mom wanted me closer to home."

He nodded then and I had a sudden déja vous moment. Is that how I looked when I nodded. Oh, kill me now. "So, do you like Hogwarts so far?"

No.

"Yes." I shrugged. "It's very big, though. I keep getting lost."

Liar… I only got lost once… Big deal. What am I _doing_?

"Really?" He smiled. "Well, maybe I can give you a tour, so you won't get lost again."

I smiled then. "You would do that? Oh, that's so nice!"

"Sure." He nodded and grinned at me. "How about we have a look around after dinner?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that'd be cool. Thanks."

"No problem." He nodded.

After a few moments, our conversation turned to Quidditch, which seems to be the main topic of conversation at this school. Honestly. As if I didn't get enough of it at Durmstrang, what with that big-nosed guy attending for awhile.

Once dinner was over, I followed Justin around the halls for awhile and half-listened to him go on and on about the paintings and classrooms and such. It was so boring I wanted to scream, but I managed to hold back my urge to run away by counting how many times he said things like "fascinating" or "wondrous sight."

So far… forty-five.

After suffering through what seemed like hours of torture, we walked outside and he pointed out the Whomping Willow to me in the distance and advised me to stay away from it.

Is he stupid or what?

That's like changing your clothes in front of someone while they're preoccupied with brushing their hair or something and then you say, "Don't look." They always look up from whatever they're doing, only to be met by fits of rage. But still. It's curiosity. You just have to look – especially when someone tells you not to.

I muttered something about how my feet were staring to hurt and so he suggested we sit down for awhile. I decided to sit close to the lake, so that I could always stare out at it if he decided to talk again. After awhile, I heard his voice, but I tuned it out on instinct, mumbling an "uh-huh" and "yeah" every once in awhile.

"There must be something wrong with my eyes." He was saying. I furrowed my brow and finally turned to look at him. He had a funny expression on his face. "I just can't take them off of you."

Um. What?

I blinked at him. Maybe it had something to do with what he was talking about before? Why wasn't I paying attention? Why was I just staring off, ignoring him? Now I have no idea what he's talking about! He's going to figure out that I wasn't paying attention! Oh, oh no! Crap!

I must have stopped paying attention again, too preoccupied with my own thoughts, because the next thing I knew his mouth was on mine and his hands were cupping my face and

Um. What? WhatwhatWHAT?!

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I ran down the hall, looking every which way. WHERE THE HELL WAS MARGIE?! I'd tried looking for her in our dorm room, but she wasn't there, and now I was obviously out past curfew and lost AGAIN (some "tour" that was) and confused and…

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. Breathe, Lucy, before you have some kind of attack. I replayed the day's events in my mind. Leaving the Quidditch pitch. Getting lost. Draco being annoying. Fleeing to the Divination tower to recover my Transfiguration book. Margie not being at dinner, so having to eat with Justin. The tour. The… kiss?

This is all Margie's fault. If she had just been at dinner this wouldn't have happened! I wouldn't have even spoken to him! I wouldn't have accepted his tour-offer or sat with him by the lake! And I wouldn't have not payed attention to him and then been too confused and such to realize what was going on!

I slid down the wall and tapped my fingernails on the floor, my eyes still closed.

I wasn't going to find Margie anywhere. She was probably off having a good old time with Ginny and Hermione and Ron and Harry Bloody Potter.

Excuse me, it's James, not Bloody.

Like I even care.

"Miss Malfoy!" Someone above me exclaimed.

I opened my eyes and stood up quickly. "Professor McGonagall!" I breathed. "Oh, thank Merlin! I'm so lost, you have _no idea_! You know where the Hufflepuff common room is, right?" Please, please, please.

She gave me a reproachful look. "Miss Malfoy, are you aware that it is two hours past curfew?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Well, sort of. I figured that it was past curfew, but I didn't know it was two hours." I clasped my hands at her in a begging-fashion. "Professor, please, I've been walking around here for what seems like a million years and I don't even know where I am!"

"It is against the rules to be out of your house common room past curfew." She informed me as if I hadn't already known. (I hadn't, really, but that's beside the point.)

"I know." I nodded. "But –"

"No buts." She held her hand up. "Follow me." I followed her down a few corridors quietly, focusing my gaze mostly on the bun in the back of her head. She's so mean for someone with such a similar hairstyle as me, honestly.

When we reached what I recognized as the portrait of a skinny old man, I sighed. McGonagall turned to me. "Try to learn your way around quickly." She said. "You don't want this to happen again." I waited for her to say something along the lines of, "Five points from Hufflepuff" or whatever, but she just nodded her head at me and walked briskly down the hall.

Cool. Sort of.

I shrugged and turned to the skinny old man in the portrait, watching him sleep quietly with the hint of an occasional snore.

Oh crap.

Okay, so, what's the password again?

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::AN:: Aw, poor Lucy. I can't help but feel bad that I make her life so semi-miserable. (lol) So… what will she do now that she doesn't know what the password is? Any suggestions? (lol) You can only find out if you review, so you know what to do! (That's not blackmail, is it? Gads, I hope not, lol.)


	12. To Walk With the Almighty Quiet One

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::Disclaimer:: The characters and setting (etc.) in this fic do not belong to me (except for Lucy and Margie). Do not sue me. Please and thank you.

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::AN:: Sorry for the long(ish) delay! I've been real busy, lately! But things are starting to calm down now, and my schedule is becoming a little more regular, so YAY! I don't really think this chapter is one of the best, but I suppose it's all right. I hope you all like it!

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To my _fantabulous_ reviewers –

randomblinx: As much as I'm concerned about your health and everything, the pee-bit was a little TMI, you know. Anyways, thanks for reviewing, I guess. Hope you like the chapter, and maybe now you can stop bugging me about updating, yes?

msj: Yes, poor Lucy. But if you think about it, she kind of brings it on herself. If you believe in the whole karma thing, that is. (Which is actually a tiny, insignificant, hint to my next chap, lol.) Thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter.

pixie: Well, a friend of msj is a friend of mine! (lol) I'm honored that you think I'm such a talented writer. That's so nice! I'll be glad to check out your story for you, too! I'm sure it's good. I mean, it must be, if you wrote it. I mean, you obviously have such awesome taste in fics… (lol) Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like this chapter.

devilz child: As of chapter eleven… no, Margie is not in the hospital wing. You won't find out what's up with her for awhile, but you may be able to figure it out on your own very quickly. Thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter!

xkuroxshinobix: I know, so sad for Lucy! But everyone has their bad days, right? (lol) Thanks for reviewing, I hope you like this chapter!

sweetiepiepirate: Yes, Justin. Oh, don't worry. I can assure you that Lucy was just as freaked out as you were (most likely, anyway). Anyway, I hope you (and all your friends – lol) like this chapter, too. Thanks for reviewing!

gloomy: Well, as long as you smiled! That's my goal! (lol) Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, too. Sorry it took so long!

Thicketgirl: One of the many (ish) to say "Justin…Ew." Well, you should be ashamed of yourself! I mean, after all… I could have put her with worse people than Justin. Like, say, Crabbe or Goyle. (Although, gah, I'm… Oh, the horror.) Hah, I'm just playing. Thanks for reviewing! I hope you like this chapter!

digladior0124: Reminds you of someone you know? Who? (lol) Anyways, thanks for reviewing, especially since you said you don't usually review on these things. That was nice. I hope you like this chapter, too.

passionatetoasters: It's hard not to slip my own lingo into the fic, you understand. I'll try to clear it up now! And I'm sorry about the slow pace, too! It's hard to find a good pace. It's either too slow and boring or too fast and unrealistic. (lol) Thanks for being honest, though! As much as those "pink bunnies-in-a-fluffly-rainbow" reviews make me feel all warm inside, they don't offer much (if any) criticism, which I know I need sometimes. If you notice anything else OOC or whatever, please let me know so I can fix these things! (lol) Anyway, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like this chapter!

pippagethetook: You're not up to here yet, but I wanted to let you know that I saw your reviews and they were really nice, so thank you and I hope you keep on reading!

stars-n-moons91: Yay for pippagethetook recommending this to you! (lol) I'm glad you like it, even though it appears that you might not be up to this chapter, either. Anyway, thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter, too!

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Chapter Twelve

After a few minutes of counting how many times the portrait of the old man snored per second, I heard the portrait hole open. I stood up quickly from my spot on the floor, and met eyes with Margie.

"Margie?!" I cried frantically. "You couldn't have come out of the common room _before_ now, could you? You just _had_ to wait until the last possible minute, didn't you?"

She blinked at me, then grabbed me by my shoulders and shoved me through the portrait hole so hard that I almost lost my balance and fell down the stairs that led to the common room. (Am I the only one who thinks it's a little weird that we Hufflepuffs are forced to live in a cellar? What is up with that?)

"Margie!" I hissed once she had shoved me onto one of the couches.

"Lucy." She said calmly. "What in Merlin's name is going on? Where have you been?!"

I explained to her as quickly as possible about my not finding her at dinner and… all that followed.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley?" She giggled when I finished telling her how the portrait outside snored awfully loud for a skinny old man.

"Yes. Justin Finch-Fletchley." I told her. "Listen, I don't want to talk about it again. Can we just go to bed now?"

"Sure." She chortled on the way to the girls' dorms. "So, how was it? Snogging Finch-Fletchley, I mean. Was it any good?"

"Goodnight, Marge." I sneered as I plopped onto my bed and drew the curtains around me. I didn't want to wake any of the other girls.

It didn't occur to me then that I should've asked Margie just what the heck she was leaving the dormitory in the middle of the night for. Well, whatever. What could she possibly be doing? It's not like she has this great big secret life that has absolutely nothing to do with me. Does she?

No, of course not. We're talking about Marge here.

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"Marge. If I have to tell you again, I'll just leave you here and you'll miss all your classes." I sat on the edge of Margie's bed as she pulled the covers up over her head.

"I feel sick." She said. "My head… so heavy."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, don't even, Marge! Believe me, I've tried everything you can think of to get out of class in my short years of schooling so far and I _know_ you're… EW!" I jumped off of her bed just as she pulled the blanket off of her head and rolled over to vomit over the entire floor.

"Margie, that's disgusting!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs.

Twenty minutes later, I was saying goodbye to Margie in the hospital wing. "You get better, okay?" I told her. "You can't just not go to class because you've contracted a sudden barfing problem." I ignored Madam Pomfrey as she glared at me. Hugging Marge one last time and promising to take extra notes in Transfiguration for her, I ran out of the hospital wing before Madam Pomfrey decided to give me another lecture on how I shouldn't be touching Margie, as her flu might be contagious.

Oh, don't even, old lady. I'm a Malfoy. I don't get sick.

"Margie has the flu." I said to Ginny as I sat down next to her for a few seconds at the Gryffindor table.

"Oh…" She looked sad for a moment. "Is she in the hospital wing?"

"Uh-huh." I nodded, glancing briefly at Colin, Hermione, Ron, Harry Potter, and another boy that I hadn't met before. "I don't know when she'll be out, but it's not bad or anything. I mean, she'll get better."

"Sure." Ginny nodded solemnly. She brightened then. "Hey, we have our first Defense class today! Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Right after lunch."

I nodded. "Yeah… Sounds fun."

"It should be." Colin nodded. "Everyone who's had the class so far said that it's great."

"It sure is." The boy I didn't know laughed. "Even better than the fake Mad-Eye."

Have I mentioned that I never really know what these people are talking about? Well, I don't.

"Okay." I nodded. "Well, I should probably go to the Hufflepuff table, so –"

"No, no! Sit with us!" Ginny urged.

I looked over towards the Hufflepuff table. When my eyes met briefly with Justin's for about a millisecond, I turned to Ginny. "Uh, sure. Thanks."

"What was that whole thing with your brother yesterday?" Hermione asked me.

He wanted to read the letter my dad sent me.

"Nothing." I told her, then smiled. "So, did you have fun in the library?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically while Ginny and the others groaned. "There seems to have been a new shipment of books over the summer holidays." Hermione informed me. "You should go look at a few of them. Or maybe all of them."

"Sounds fascinating." I smirked. "Maybe I'll do that sometime." Maybe. In the far future. Like, in my next lifetime.

I heard Ron mumbling something to Harry Potter and the boy I didn't know, so I turned back to Ginny and Colin. After finding that I really had nothing to say to them, I eyed the sausage links in front of me.

They actually looked really good… considering I hadn't had a proper meal in a few days.

I could hear Colin saying something to Ginny about how he was going to go see Marge during lunch, but I stopped paying attention after a few moments. I was wondering about the sausage.

Do you think I should eat it? Or maybe I should just settle with some toast, yes?

I got one of those shivery feelings suddenly, and I looked behind me for a second. Why do I feel like someone's watching me? I shook my head and looked back at the sausages. To eat or not to eat?

"Well, it's almost time for classes to begin." Hermione was saying. "We can't be late, you guys."

I looked up at her, but didn't say anything as she gathered her things and exchanged a few whispers with Ron. "Be good, Gin." Ron told Ginny before he stood up.

I smiled softly as Ginny mumbled something under her breath. It may be annoying to Ginny, but sometimes I sort of wish my brother were a little concerned for my welfare, like Ron seems to be for her. Sibling rivalry doesn't seem to exist in their family as much as it does in mine.

"Yeah, I should get to class, too." I said to Ginny and Colin. "I have Divination with the Ravenclaws first. It always takes me forever to find my way to Trelawney's class."

"Why don't you just have someone show you where it is?" Colin shrugged.

I shook my head. "I'm perfectly capable of –"

"Hey Harry!" Ginny called Harry Potter back to the table just before he exited the Great Hall with Hermione and Ron. He returned with a slightly bored expression on his face. "Could you show Lucy where the Divination room is?" She asked him. "She'll get lost again if she goes off by herself."

I opened my mouth in protest, but no sound seemed to come out. I wanted to point out that it wasn't a guarantee that I would find the way on my own, but that didn't mean I would get lost. And also that I didn't want Harry Potter showing me to my class.

Harry Potter shrugged at her, but didn't say anything. "Good." Ginny said, standing up. "Come on, Colin. We have Care of Magical Creatures to get to."

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I've come to the conclusion that the best way to interact with Harry Potter is to not even _act_. For instance, if he is showing you to your class, you say nothing. Absolutely nothing. You also make sure to stay at least two feet away from him. Whether it be two feet behind him, two feet to either side, or two feet ahead. (Although, if he's showing to you to your class because you don't know where it is, then being in front of him _whatsoever_ might not be such a bright idea. Unless you want to look like a complete fool and have him go, "Um, no, it's this way." Trust me.)

After awhile, I suppose the quietness of it all just got to me and I exploded. Er, sort of. "So how did you become friends with Ron and Hermione?" I asked him.

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "It's a long story." Was all he said.

"Oh." I nodded. "Well, how do you know Margie?"

"I don't." He informed me in quite the expressionless way. "She's Ginny's friend. I never even knew her before this year."

I nodded. Right. Because the wonderful, famous Boy Who Lived And So Is Thus Better Than Everyone Else Who Is Really Just As Much Alive As He Is is beneath even paying attention to his best friend's sister's friends. What a jerk.

"Who was that guy at breakfast today?" I asked.

"Neville Longbottom." He told me.

"Oh." I nodded. I know that last name. Not something to mention in civilized company, though. (Although… Harry Potter? Civilized? I think not.) Moving on, then.

"Have you taken Divination?" I asked him, even though he had one of those fidgety looks about him (you know, the ones where people kind of look around as though they're searching for an escape? Yeah, he had that.) that sort of (only sort of) made me want to shut my mouth and keep quiet for the rest of the walk. But, really. Am I intimidated by The Boy Who Needed To Comb His Hair? No. Not entirely, anyway.

He did a short nod. "Yes." He said.

All right, then. I've attempted a conversation with the Almighty Quiet One as best as I possibly can. It's your turn, good fellow! There you go! Have at it! Ask me anything! Anything at all!

I dragged my feet on the floor noisily. How far was the damned classroom anyway? I really should be paying attention, so that I might one day be able to venture the halls of this school alone. Without getting lost, I mean.

I figured I could ask a normal question, then. "Hey, I was wondering." I said. "You wouldn't happen to have any classes with my brother today, would you?"

He stopped in front of a set of stairs. "It's up these stairs." He told me. "Bye."

What? What is he talking about?

Oh, my class. Right.

"Okay, then." I said after he'd already rounded the corner. "Just… don't answer my question. Oh, and walk off in the rudest way possible. Much appreciated, oh Quiet One of Boringness." I rolled my eyes and headed up the stairs. "Good riddance."

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I've suddenly discovered that I can't read tea leafs. And that I pretty much suck at anything transfiguration-related. At least, this is all true when Margie is not around, as she's usually the one to nudge me and say, "Wake up, Lucy. Trelawney's headed this way." or "Lucy, no. That's not what McGonagall said to write down. Do you want to fail?" Without her, I about had a heart attack when Trelawney called on me, and ended up looking like an idiot when McGonagall asked me to demonstrate the spell we were learning in front of the class. (What was the spell, you ask? I don't know. I have a short attention span, you see…)

"Margie!" I whined at her as I walked into the hospital wing during lunch. "What are you still doing in here? Can't you get better in a quicker way? Like, say, magic?"

Margie shrugged at me from her bed as I sat down in one of the chairs next to her. "Have you brought the Transfiguration notes?" She asked me.

I nodded. "Sure. But you may want to cross-reference them or whatever with McGonagall. Merlin knows I have no idea what she was talking about in class."

"You ended up looking like an idiot for some reason, I'm assuming." She said, grabbing the parchment from my hand. I nodded and she rolled her eyes. "You better get out of here, though. Pomfrey just gave Colin this long lecture on how contagious I supposedly am. If you're here when she gets back…"

"I'm a Malfoy." I assured her, standing up and grabbing my bag all the same. "I don't get sick." I tapped the foot of her bed. "All the same… Pomfrey already gave me a good yelling at once today… How long do you think it'll be until you're allowed to leave this place?"

She shook her head. "I've asked Madam Pomfrey, but she just kept telling me that my health was more important than –"

"Blah, blah, blah." I interrupted. "If you have to deary, just sneak out." I told her as I exited. Heading out I bumped into someone. "Terribly sorry." I mumbled, grabbing my bag off of the floor. I blinked for a moment. "Oh, hi Madam Pomfrey. Ahem. Um, bye Madam Pomfrey. Nice weather we're having, isn't it? Lovely… clouds." I raced around her quickly and practically ran around the corner.

Merlin! Don't let her have heard me! Run, Lucy, run!

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"Ginny." I grumbled, settling down next to her on the bench, ignoring the funny expression she and Colin shot my way. "Oh, no." I plopped my face down onto the table. "Don't mention how I'm at the wrong table. I'm not going to the Hufflepuff table. I've managed to avoid that weirdo all day long, and I'm not taking any more chances." I heard Ginny make that cow-ish, mouth opening sound that she makes when she's about to say something, so I quickly continued. "Plus, I almost got points taken away in Divination because –excuse me – that subject is extremely boring and I passed out. Not to mention that McGonagall has set out to make my whole life miserable."

"I'm sure." I heard someone say.

I lifted my head and met eyes with some green-eyed person. "Right. I'm so sure that she just _happens_ to have me do all the wrong things at the absolute wrong moment." I turned to Ginny. "It's like she finds me in the worst possible places, too! Like last night, she just _had_ to be the one to find me lost past curfew in… some hallway."

"But she didn't take points from you when she showed you to your common room." Colin pointed out.

I shrugged. "Well, no, but –" I blinked ahead of me, seeing something distinctly green again.

"Oops." I heard Colin whisper under his breath.

"Creevey, you, you!" I stuttered in a tiny fit of rage. I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly. "Margie _told_ you about that?" I paused. "What else did she tell you?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, turning to take a mouthful of something off of his plate. "Nothing at all."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You… liar!" I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. "I can't believe she told you all that. That's horrible. Can I have no privacy whatsoever? Why was it so important that she tell you, anyway? Honestly." I blew upwards in an attempt to remove some spare fringe from my eyes.

"What are you two talking about?" Ginny questioned, looking back and forth from both of us. "Is there something I should know?"

"No." Colin and I said at the same time.

I glared at Colin. "Aha! So you do know!"

"Okay, okay." He said reluctantly. He grinned suddenly. "So. You and Finch-Fletchley, huh?"

Ginny's eyes opened wider than any person's eyes have opened before in the history of wide eyes. My eyes on the other hand, were quite narrow. Quite, as in very, narrow.

"You." I said in a voice just above a whisper. "Are so going to get it."

"Really?" He chuckled. "What are you going to do to me?"

I shrugged and buried my face in the crook of my elbow as I layed my head on the table. "It doesn't matter, anymore." I said in a muffled voice.

"What are you two talking about?" Ginny asked again. "Tell me! Please!"

I closed my eyes, wishing to sleep away all my troubles (hey, it works. You should try it sometime. There's nothing that a good nap won't cure.). Behind my eyes, I saw a flash of green. Green? Green? How is green so familiar?

I looked up from my comfortable nap-position. Yup, just as I thought. Harry Potter. Stupid, stupid, Harry freaking Potter. Just what I need. Harry Potter eavesdropping on all my worst conversations.

Ginny was pulling on the sleeve of my robe. "Lucy." She whispered pathetically. "Tell me. Please."

I wriggled out of her grasp. "There's nothing to tell." I shrugged. "I couldn't find Margie yesterday at dinner. I sat at my house table, naturally. Then there was a tour, a lake, and me not paying attention when I probably should have been paying attention. So then I left, got lost, got caught, forgot the password, and then Margie found me. End of story."

"I don't understand." Ginny frowned.

I shook my head. "That makes two of us." I nodded. "Anyway, how have you been? Anything interesting happen lately?"

"Not really." Ginny shrugged, still frowning. "So… What do you mean, a tour? What does this have to do with Justin Finch-Fletchley?"

I grabbed an apple off of one of the plates in front of me and took the biggest bite out of it that I could. "Don't worry about it." I said after swallowing the chunk of apple without chewing it (um, ow). "Give it a few days and you'll forget all about. You'll be talking about something else entirely. Like those Patil girls getting caught in Filch's office with Zabini or something like that."

"What?" Ginny's jaw dropped. "Parvati and Padma?" She whispered. "And Blaise Zabini? Together?"

I shook my head. "No! What are you talking about? It's just an example!" I shushed her and tried to calm her down as she mumbled something under her breath. "No, Ginny, stop mumbling. People are starting to stare. It's just an example!"

Oh, this could go on forever.

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"Can we talk? Do you think we're allowed to speak?" I whispered to Colin. "Is he horribly mean? I heard that he turned my brother into a rodent of some sort. Do you think he'll do that to me? Because if he even tries to –"

"That wasn't Moody." Ginny hissed. "It was someone else. And he's nice. But, no, I don't think we should talk."

"Why not?" I shot back, trying to be totally defiant (not easy, let me assure you). Looking at Colin out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he was sitting up straight, facing forward.

"Because –" Ginny began.

"Because class has begun." I heard someone say from the front of the room. I turned to face what I supposed to be "Mad-Eye" Moody, my Defense teacher.

"Oh." I mumbled, slouching in my chair. "Ahem. Sorry."

Moody narrowed his one good eye at me. (One "good" eye? Wait a minute… _AAHH_! What the heck is that thing?! Has anyone else noticed that there's a weird swiveling thing in my teacher's _head_?!) "What is your name?" He asked someone – quite obviously not me.

After a few seconds, I looked around and then faced him again. "Me?" I squeaked, pointing to my chest. He nodded and I gulped. "Um. Lucy. Lucy Malfoy."

He shook his head. "No," he said. "There is no Lucy Malfoy on the list of names I was given for this class."

I peeked at Ginny and Colin out of the corner of my eye. Oh, gee, guys. Just sit there and watch. Oh, and the rest of you… I don't know you're names… Thanks!

I furrowed my brow. "Sorry?" I offered.

He continued to study me for a few more moments until he finally said, "Could you be… Lucinda Malfoy?"

I blinked at him. Um, no, dude. How many other Lucinda Malfoys have you heard of? Is it a common name? (I hope not!) I nodded, then. "Uh, yeah?"

"Yes." He responded.

I nodded, a little more confident now that I sort of knew what he was talking about. "Yeah." I repeated.

He shook his head. "Yes."

I frowned. "Um. Yes?"

He nodded slowly, turning towards his desk, and saying something to the class about previous professors and whatnot. I leaned on the table and across Colin, who sat between Ginny and me. "Gin." I hissed. "I thought you said he was cool."

"That wasn't me, that was Colin." She corrected lowly. "And he is."

I shook my head and opened my mouth to say something when suddenly I heard, "Miss Malfoy! Would you like to share that with the class?"

I looked up and blinked. "Um." I stuttered. "Ahem. Sorry."

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I flopped lazily onto my back, grateful that no one else had felt the need to miss dinner and pass the time outside by the lake.

'Big, big moon.' I thought.

Sometimes I really like being alone, you know. It gives me time to think and reflect. To worry and pass judgement all at the same time. To –

"Now Ron, that's not a very fair thing to say." I heard someone say in a scolding voice.

On second thought, maybe being alone is a complete impossibility in this place.

"It's true!" A second voice protested. Hey, oh, hey! That's Ron. "All he ever does is mope about!"

"He's in _mourning_." The first voice was saying a bit softer. "It's only been a few months since he lost his godfather." Oh, hey. That's Hermione!

"I know that!" Ron said in a frustrated tone. "And I know he's having a hard time! But he's not the only one who lost Sirius! And even though it's only been a few months, it's still been a few_ months_!"

"Ron!" Hermione chided. "You can't blame Harry for acting the way he is!"

"I'm not!" Ron shouted. "Well, I am. Sort of. I don't know, Hermione. I just wish he'd talk to me about it."

"I know. But you have to let him come around on his own." She responded. "You can't force him to speak about what happened. I'm sure Harry will talk to you when he's ready to."

I started to crawl towards the opposite direction of where the voices where coming from. Can't let them know I was listening! I didn't _mean_ to be listening, mind you. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Plus, they were talking very loudly. Anyone could have heard.

A few moments later, as I entered the Entrance Hall, I took a deep breath. So… the Boy Who Lived turned out to be the Boy Who Won't Talk To His Friends About His Problems. That's sort of a lot to take in.

I mean, you don't think of these kinds of things when you read about famous people in the paper. After all, they're famous. What kind of pain and suffering could they have possibly endured? Right?

I shuffled slowly down the hall, planning on heading towards the Hufflepuff common room, hearing the Great Hall doors opening and closing somewhere behind me. Dinner was over, I suppose.

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::AN:: Sorry for the long delay, everyone. And I'm SORRY if Moody is way OOC (I think he's OOC, anyway). When I came up with the idea of putting him in the fic, I never thought it'd be so hard to write him! Gah! Any suggestions? Anyone? Please? (lol) Anyways, thanks for sticking with me, and please review!

PS – Does anyone know what the deal with that C2 thing (or whatever) is? I don't really get it, but it sounds kind of cool. I guess. (lol)


	13. The Day Dragons Danced In the Sky

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::Disclaimer:: When you think about it… I _could_ own Harry Potter. I mean, I _might_. You don't know that. I mean… Buh. What am I trying to prove, here? I don't own Harry Potter… Don't sue me!

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::AN:: Yay, another chapter! It's actually a bit longer (not _that_ much, though. I doubt anyone will even notice…), so YAY! Anyways, I hope you guys like this chapter!

**sweetiepiepirate**: Too much plot? Ah, I see. (No, I don't see. I don't understand at all.) Well, then. (lol) I think I understand the "not enough Lucy" bit, though. I know there wasn't a lot of, how do I put this, _commentary_ from Lucy as much as there normally is. I assure you, there is enough Lucy to last you 'till my next update in this chapter! I think you meant he wasn't really Moody in the 4th book, not the 5th. He was Moody in the 5th book. (Right?) Anyway, thanks for the support and I'm sorry you didn't laugh as much! I hope you like this chapter, though!

**gloomy**: I love Lucy, too. I also love that phrase – "I love Lucy." (I loved that old TV show, too.) I loved the "phrase" so much that I thought of changing the title from 'Well, What Do You Know' to 'I love Lucy' after I got a review from someone saying, "I love Lucy." But then I realized that this would only confuse people and I would lose reviewers and whatnot. And if you HATE the way Sirius died too, then you'll probably like a fic that I'll be writing once another of my fics is over ('To Be Unknown'). Teehee. I hope you like this chapter! Thanks for reviewing!

**randomblinx**: You're crazy. I love you. I'm tired. Goodnight. Thanks for reviewing. Be sure to do it again soon.

**xkuroxshinobix**: I'm glad you liked the last chapter! Thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this one, too!

**msj**: I love "The Boy Who…" names as well. (Sadly, I think I may have forgotten to give Lucy the opportunity to say/think those in this chapter. Well, there's always chapter fourteen and so on!) School is great, thanks for asking. I was worried that sophomore year would be really hard, but it's not! And my teachers are all super-cool, which is a big relief for me, lol. By the way, if you have any cute/fun little "The Boy Who…" references or whatever, be sure to let me know and I'll try and stick them in this fic. I really love using those, lol. Anyways, thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter!

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Chapter Thirteen

I've done it. I've finally done it. After much hard work on my part, and endless encouragement on Margie's part, I have finally managed to curl my tongue into a "U."

Well, once.

"I can't believe I can't do it again!" I whined, stomping my feet on the ground in frustration. (Which, let me tell you, is hard to do while sitting down in a chair in which your feet don't touch the floor.)

"Just try later on." Margie said as she snuggled deeper into her blankets. Madam Pomfrey seemed to have a thing about "keeping Miss Clearwater warm." I offered Margie some ice cream while Madam Pomfrey was hanging around, and she about had my head, I swear.

"Just my luck." I grumbled.

Margie laughed quietly. "So what else have you been doing without me, then? Nothing else I should know about?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sadly, no. I've told you _everything_." And I have. I'm not lying, or anything. When have I ever done that? "You need to get better soon, though." I told her. "What am I going to do if Ginny makes Harry Potter show me to my class again? How boring was that? I could've sworn he was mute or something, seriously."

Margie frowned. "His name is Harry." She said slowly.

I blinked at her. "Um, yeah. That's what I just said, Marge."

"No, no." She sat up a bit. "I've noticed it for awhile, actually, but I guess I didn't really _notice_ notice, you know."

"Margie, I don't care what you say otherwise, but really. You don't speak English."

She shook her head and laughed. "No, no, what I'm getting at is…." She smirked. "Who showed you to Divination yesterday? Who is your brother's sworn enemy?"

I thought for a moment. "Harry Potter."

"AHA!" She exclaimed. "That's it, that's it!" She cried.

I raised my eyebrows. "You know, Margie, sometimes I have a suspicion that you may be faking your illness just to get out of class… But right now I believe that you're quite feverish."

"No." She said, shaking her head. "You don't realize it? Do you really just say it out of habit or something?" She continued after I gave her one of my famous 'Uh, what?' looks. "Harry Potter." She said. "You don't call him 'Harry' like Ginny and everyone does. You don't even call him 'Potter' like your brother and his friends do. You call him 'Harry Potter.' All the time. As if that's his whole first name or something."

"Well, that is his _name_, Marge…"

She gave me a blank look for a moment before she finally said, "Never mind, Lucy."

What? I don't appreciate being treated as though I am a small child that doesn't understand many things! Or, er, something like that. Honestly!

Although I really do wish I could curl my tongue into a "U" again. If I just… Maybe… Oh, that might work…

"Stop it!" Margie cried suddenly.

"Stop what?" I asked her.

"Your tongue is not going to curl into a 'U' if you keep doing that!" She scolded. "So you can stop tilting your head to the side and making that crazy face!"

Well, sorry if I have offended you, _Margaret_. You wouldn't be so cruel if you couldn't curl your tongue, let me assure you. I mean, seriously.

"Stop."

"Stopping! Stopping! No need to have a hernia!"

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"I love Saturdays." Justin was saying as I sat on the couch, my Transfiguration book in my lap. Oh… SHUT UP!

"Great days to just lounge about with your friends and not do much of anything." He continued. "Great for studying as well, I suppose." He waved his hands towards my unopened textbook.

Yes, studying. I could study if you just SHUT UP and left me ALONE!

"You're taking your OWLS this year, am I right?" He asked.

I looked at him for a moment without saying anything. "Yes, I'm taking my OWLS this year." I finally told him. He nodded and flashed me a grin.

It would have been a nice grin, mind you… If he hadn't had a bit of food stuck in his teeth. I opened my mouth, then. Somebody should let the poor boy know. I closed my mouth, though, in an effort not to laugh.

"Were you going to say something?" He asked.

I opened my mouth again, stopping suddenly when I remembered something that my aunt Carolina once told me. "The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right time, but also to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment." Well, then.

"No, nothing." I told him, opening my book and not sparing him another glance.

Then again…

I am, after all, a Malfoy. Conscious is something that only hinders my progression through life.

"You have a bit of food in you teeth." I told him.

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"Smile, Lucy." Colin said behind the large silver contraption that he was carrying around as we walked towards the hospital wing to kidnap Marge.

"What is that? What are you doing?" I asked him suspiciously, poking a mirror looking thing on what he was holding.

"It's a muggle camera." He told me. "I'm going to take pictures outside once we get Marge. I was going to take your picture right now just to see if it was working properly."

I wrinkled my brow. "Must I smile? Won't my picture smile for me?"

He shook his head. "Muggle pictures don't move." He said as he disappeared inside the hospital wing.

WHAT? What kind of world are those poor, defenseless muggles living in?!

As previously discussed, I waited in the corridor as Colin retrieved Marge from her state of confinement in the torture chamber – I mean, hospital wing. A few moments later, they both emerged, laughing heartily.

"Right, then!" I clapped my hands together. "Let's get this sick child some fresh air!" I said to Colin, who just laughed at me.

Yes, I tend to have that effect on people.

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"Join us." Hermione was saying as I shielded my eyes from the sun. She, Ron, and Harry Potter, I mean Harry (…er…?)… Potter, were sitting under a tree, staring up at Colin, Margie, and I as though we were from another planet. Well, sort of.

"Fuzzy knickers, it's hot out here!" I complained loudly all of a sudden.

"It's actually pretty cold." Colin contradicted me. "You're not even wearing a sweater, Lucy. It's autumn, you should start wearing your fall clothes."

Margie shook her head. "No, it's pretty hot out today." She nodded her head to me. "But it's not that bad. Let's sit."

"Good." Hermione grinned, making room for the three of us on the grass next to her.

I sat a ways away from the others, so that I could do some thinking while the Gryffindors conversed with the ill Margie.

"How have you been? Are you feeling any better?" Hermione was giving poor Marge the third degree. She's almost as bad as Madam Pomfrey, I swear.

I leaned back on the grass, staring up at the clouds to tune out the people around me. Every once in awhile Margie or Hermione would ask me a question and I would make one of the two universal grunting noises (you know, "uh-huh" and "uh-uh."), only half paying attention to them. This continued through a few hours, I think.

Have you ever noticed that if you stare at clouds long enough, they start to move? I think they maybe move on their own, but I can't be too-too sure. I'm not a cloud-expert here, honestly.

I remember back when I was very young, my father used to show me shapes in the sky. He told me how his mother showed him all the many shapes, and how her father showed her, and so on, and how it was tradition that he show me. And so he did. After awhile, though, he was too busy to go cloud-watching with me. My mum offered to once, but I was upset and so I told her no. I used to go by myself, but I stopped as I grew older.

So, so far today, I've found a fish, two ducks, dogs, three dragons dancing, and a frog catching a fly for dinner. Tradition calls for me to find a rabbit before I can continue with my daily activities (hey, it's tradition, don't knock it).

"Margie!" I pointed to the sky when she and the others glanced over at me for a moment. "I can't find a rabbit. Do you see one?"

I heard someone snort, and then Hermione making shushing noises. "Is that what you've been doing this whole time?" Colin asked.

I turned my head to face them. "Um." Sitting up, I brushed the grass off my back. "No… I…" I shrugged. "Well, okay, yeah. It's just a stupid thing I used to do with my… I'll stop now."

Margie smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but paused suddenly, furrowing her eyebrow. "Lucy, um." What, Marge? What's the stutter-age problem?

"Lucy!" I heard someone call behind me. I turned my head quickly, and saw Draco jogging up towards us.

"Bloody hell." Ron grumbled.

But…

"Why is he coming over here?" Margie whispered to me. "Aren't you still angry with him?"

I nodded my head slowly, sitting up a little straighter. I placed my hand on my stomach, frowning. Something's… not quite right.

I stood up just as Draco ran up to me, huffing and puffing, out of breath. I heard Ron say, "What do you want, ferret?" but Draco didn't seem to have noticed. He just sort of stared at me.

I tilted my head to the side. "Draco?"

He grabbed my arms suddenly, leading me back towards the castle. "Lucy, where are you going?" I heard Marge call after me.

I turned around to look at her for a second, but all I saw was a quick glimpse of her whole little group staring after Draco and me before I almost tripped over the stairs. "Ow!" I grimaced as my knee collided with the stone. Draco didn't seem fazed, though, as he dragged me inside.

Once we were in the Entrance Hall, I wriggled out of his grasp. "You're hurting me!" I cried, glad that there didn't seem to be anyone in the Hall. "What's going on?" I asked him.

He nodded slowly as though he was thinking to himself before he said, "Listen, Lucy. I had to be the first to tell you. I couldn't have you reading it in the Daily Prophet or hearing it from one of your muggle-loving friends."

"Tell me what?" I asked dumbly after a few moments' silence.

He looked me in the eye, then. "Father." He said. "Father has escaped from Azkaban."

Come again? Did he just say what I think I said? Did… what? What, what, WHAT?! Why?!

I asked him this. I stepped forward. "WHAT?! Draco, why?!"

He shook his head. "I don't know, Lucy! Do I _look_ like I know?!" He looked a bit angry, then. "I've been looking all over for you! I should've known you'd be off with those friends of yours!"

"Shut up!" I rolled my eyes. "How is that even relevant to Dad breaking out of –" I lowered my voice to a whisper. "- To Dad breaking out of Azkaban?"

"It has everything to do with it." He hissed. "Lucy, just stay away from them. It was all right for a little while, but after what's happened…"

Oh, I get it. Well. There's no arguing with that, now, is there?"

"Lucy." He said warningly. "I'm warning you… Just do as I say. Just this once. Please, Luce."

I shook my head. "No. Get over yourself, Draco. Dad may be an escaped convict freak, but he's still Dad. He could be an escaped _mental patient_ with _homicidal_ tendencies, but he'd still be _Dad_! He's not going to let anything happen to us!" I put my hand on his shoulder. "We could be having tea on a daily basis with Dumbledore and he wouldn't mind… enough to let anything bad happen to us, that is. Trust me."

"What do you know?" He hissed. "You haven't even seen him in four years!"

Well, no… but…

"I still know him better than you." I countered, then shook my head. "How did you find out, anyway? Did mum owl you?"

He shook his head. "No. I heard from… some people. Father isn't the only one who escaped."

Oh. "Well, have you heard from her? Mum, I mean?"

"No. I can't owl her." He said. "In case it gets intercepted."

Right. "That's all right." I nodded. "I'm sure you'll be receiving an owl from her soon. She might even come here, I don't know. She's weird like that."

He nodded. "I don't know. I'll let you know if I get an owl from her." He patted my head. (Weird…) "You won't speak to any of you little friends about this, will you?"

I shook my head. "No unless they bring it up, I promise." He shrugged and gave me a brief hug 9again, weird…), then turned to leave.

I grabbed his arm quickly, turning him around and throwing myself towards him, wrapping my arms around his waist tightly. "Is he okay?" I asked. "You heard he escaped, but did you hear if he was all right? Are you all right? You can't get all weird on me now, you're all I have left and if you get all weird then I'll be all alone and –"

"It's fine, Lucy." I heard him whisper as he rubbed my back reassuringly. "He's fine. I'm fine. Now let go of me before someone sees you."

I pulled away quickly, sniffling a bit. "Bye." I nodded and watched him walk around a corner and out of sight.

"What was that all about?" Margie asked as I rejoined the group outside a half-hour or so later. I'd needed to do some thinking on my own for a little while. As in, alone in my room with the blankets over my head.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Oh, just… I… It's…" I sat down next to Margie, looking at the grass for a moment. My head shot up suddenly when I realized something. "Ginny?!" I exclaimed. "When did you get here?"

She blinked at me. "Um, I've been here for awhile… They, um, said you'd, uh, just left when I came out here. Yeah."

Uh, what? 'Um, uh, yeah.' Ginny, speak a language I understand, will you?!

I nodded slowly. "Okay…"

There was a long moment of silence, where I stopped paying attention to anything as I stared down at the grass again, picking a few blades out every now and then. I looked up after awhile and my eyes widened. "Um. Ahem." I cleared my throat.

Why are they all just looking at me?! What's with the staring, people?! Do they know something I don't – or worse… Do they _know_? I looked around wearily for a moment.

"Lucy –" Hermione began.

"I have to go." I said quickly, standing up as fast as possible. "See you later."

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I don't really believe in karma. But I sort of do, you know. If you think about it, a lot of people do. Like the whole, "Treat others how you would want to be treated stuff." Total karma, I'm telling you. And it's drilled into our heads right when we're wee little things.

Ginny was giving me a semi-sympathetic look as we stood in the empty corridor. "I followed you earlier." She said. "I overheard you speaking with your brother.

But, if you get right down to it, sometimes karma really screws us over. Or, at least me.

"What do you mean, you followed me?" I asked Ginny. "You… you weren't even there!"

"I was on my _way_ outside." She explained. "I saw Malfoy – I mean, Draco – dragging you inside by your arm, so _naturally_, I lingered around a little to see what was going on."

I bet this is karma's way of getting me back for not holding my tongue when Justin had food in his teeth. I know it! Oh, this sucks. I really need to learn to shut up at the opportune moments.

"You eavesdropped on me! You, you, foul little… eavesdropper!" I exclaimed. "I can't believe you would do something like that! I would never follow you for no reason and listen in on you having a conversation with _Ron_!"

Like now. Now would be a sort of good time to shush up just a bit.

"Why would you want to?" She raised an eyebrow at me. "Honestly, Lucy." She continued. "I was just worried. I didn't know if Malfoy was just dragging you through the Entrance Hall to talk to you or… I don't know, kill you or something! So I stuck around to find out."

Draco? Kill me? Oh, what a laugh. You're very humorous, Gin, dear.

I shifted my feet from side to side. "So. What did you _overhear_?"

"Everything from when you said he was hurting your arm, to when you said 'bye' and he walked off." She nodded. "So, everything."

Oh, Ginny, Ginny, Ginny. I should so strangle you for being the nosy little freak you are. But I won't. Why? Well, because you're looking at me kind of funny right now and – Oh, what's that? Oh, darn it. there I go again with the tears and all.

"Lucy." She whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

I nodded. "I know." I croaked out, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my robe.

"And I'm sorry I told Hermione and the others about what I heard you and your brother talking about."

Oh, oh, you are so dead, Ginny.

I blinked at her. "Wha… Why?"

"Well." She shrugged. "It's just… It's one of those tings where I felt the need to say something. I mean, I felt kind of obligated to tell Harry, for instance, because… he's Harry, and well, your Dad…"

Is a Death Eater? That's okay, Ginny, you don't have to finish. I know what you're going to say.

I nodded slowly. "Sure… whatever."

"I'm… I'm sorry about… you know, everything." She went on. "If you want to talk…"

I shook my head slowly, taking a few steps away from her. "No. I'm… I don't need your help." I finally managed. "I'm… gonna go. Bye." I turned quickly around the corner behind me and slammed into something soft and hard at the same time. I took an uneasy step back and looked up.

"Oh, sorry, I-" I started until I recognized just who I had walked into. Harry Potter. My eyes narrowed and I glared at him. "So, what? It's not enough that Ginny is a nosybody, but every other Gryffindor has to be, too, is that it?" I gestured towards the others behind him. "Is this some kind of entertainment for you? Some little game to amuse you?"

"Lucy-" I heard Hermione's voice.

"Forget it." I shook my head, pushing my way past them and down the hall.

I hate that.

I hate that they can just stand there and stare at me like I've gone crazy. I hate that they all have this annoying type of friendship where they tell each other everything and, unless you're in their little group, you can't trust them at all. I swear, they're just like Draco and his friends. Sort of.

Just what are they trying to prove? That they're better than me or something?

Whatever. I have no idea what I'm saying, anyway.

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I sat in one of the chairs next to Margie's bed. "Did you get into a lot of trouble with Madam Pomfrey?" I asked her after a long silence. We'd agreed not to speak of anything to do with this afternoon.

"She gave me a huge lecture, yeah." She breathed. "But in the end, it wasn't so bad. She said that the fresh air might have done me a little good. So, as long as I don't get worse, I'm off the hook."

"That's good." I nodded.

She nodded, too. "Yeah."

I don't know how long I was staring at the opposite wall before Margie finally said, "You should go eat, Lucy."

"I'm not that hungry." I told her. "Besides, I'm not too fond of eating alone."

I heard a door opening somewhere, and I exchanged a look with Margie. "Hello?" Margie called. "Is someone there?"

"It's just us!" I heard someone call back. Who was that?

I turned to face the doorway, where I saw Ginny and Harry Potter walking towards us. I blinked for a moment, then turned to Marge. "Goodnight, Margie. Get well." She nodded and gave me a small smile as I stood from the chair. I passed Ginny and Harry potter on my way out, acting as thought they weren't there at all.

Walking down the corridor, I wrapped my robe tighter around myself. Now that I think of it, it is rather cold now. I don't know how that's happened. One minute it's really warm and the next… Gah, what does it matter?

"I'm sorry."

I jumped about a mile. Turning to my left, I saw Harry Potter standing there, his hands in his pockets and a weird expression on his face. I had nothing to do but blink. Fashionably, of course. (Um, not?)

"Ginny shouldn't have eavesdropped on you." He continued. "And she shouldn't have told us afterwards."

Well, then. When you put it that way, I don't want to be angry any longer. I'm serious, though. The way he said it, just standing there with his hands in his pockets and whatnot made me not want to be mad anymore.

"It doesn't matter that much." I mumbled. "Everyone's going to find out anyway."

He nodded. "Um. Everyone has. Dumbledore made an announcement at dinner."

Great. Leave it to Dumbledore to just MAKE THINGS WORSE! I should _rip out his eyes_!

"Well, then." I muttered. "Well, whatever. That's good, then. Then everyone knows and there's nothing to worry about." I turned to commence walking.

"Where are you going?" He asked suddenly.

I paused. "Um. Nowhere. Anywhere. I don't know."

He tilted his head to the side and I watched his glasses slide down his nose a little. "Come with me." He said, grabbing my hand.

Um. Okay?

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::AN:: Ah, cliffhangerish, I know! Sorry, but it's NINE PAGES! I'll update ASAP, don't worry. (I want to know what happens next too! Hahah, just kidding, I already know.) Anyway, please review! I've noticed that the number of reviews I usually get has gone down a bit, which makes me sad. But don't worry, I'm not going to get all, "Give me ten reviews or I won't update!" on you guys. (That's so horrible. I hate when people do that!) Anywho, please review! Suggestions are very welcome and ever grateful, just so you know. (lol)

PS- No one's answered me! I've already asked and no one's answered! Okay, I'll ask again: Does anyone know what the heck that C2 thing is? It looks kinda cool, but I don't understand it at all. How does it work? (lol)


	14. This Doesn't Mean That Marge Was Right

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::Disclaimer:: I don't own it, thanks. Don't sue!

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::AN:: AHA! Chapter fourteen! Here it is, lol!

TheManWhoLetTheBoyLive: I think your review freaked me out the most… lol. Anyways, I hope you like this chapter! Good luck with that, er, possessed baby. I guess…

sweetiepiepirate: I'm glad you liked the last chapter, and I hope you like this one, too. Thanks for trying to explain the C2 thingy a little (even though I still don't get it, lol). Thanks for reviewing!

gloomy: Hahah, yes. Well, you find out where they're going right at the beginning of this chapter, so I hope you're happy now, lol. Anyways, thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter!

depressedpuppets: I love your nic! Sorry, I just had to get that out of my system… Anyway, welcome to this fic or whatever, and thanks for reviewing! I hope you like this chapter, and I'll be glad to give you any suggestions or whatever for writing if you want. Just drop me an email and I'll get back to you.

passionatetoasters: LMAO, um, no… I was talking about the C2 thing that's mentioned on the homepage of this site, lol. Thanks, though! Did you really not have any advice or were you just trying to be nice? I can handle it, I swear! Hahah, anyway, thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter!

Thicketgirl: Yeah, he seemed a little nice, I suppose. I'm a little stressed when it comes to writing Draco (everyone has such high expectations, you know, lol), but I just tried to imagine how some of my guy-friends-that-have-sisters would act, lol. Anyways, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like this chapter!

xParanoidAndroidx: I think I can't give you a proper review-response because, well… hahah. ANYWAY, thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter!

Tintalu: Hahah, I can't believe you forgot your account (sorry, that's just funny). Anyways, thanks for reviewing. I like what you think, lol! Hah, I hope you like that chapter!

xkuroxshinobix: Kissing? Hahah, your review made me smile, that was so cute! Anyway, thanks for reviewing, I hope you like this chapter.

lark277: Thanks, I'm glad you like Lucy! And I know she's strange. I made her that way (yay). Thanks for reviewing! I hope you like this chapter, too!

msj: Well, I don't know about you but I know quite a few people (like, say, all my closest friends, including me) who space out and are confused about everything half of the time, lol. And I figured that with the whole Lucy's-dad-thing, everyone _would_ know, cuz he's, like, a criminal, hahah. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like this chapter, too! Go class of 2007! Woot!

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Chapter Fourteen

I let Harry Potter lead me down the corridor, trying not to stumble over my own feet behind him. How can he walk so fast? Is that weird or is it just me?

"Where are we going?" I asked after a few moments.

Not even a second later, after rounding a corner, I knew. "You…" I blinked. "You know where the Hufflepuff common room is?"

He nodded and turned around once we were in front of the skinny old man. "Sure." He said. "Now, you should probably stay in your common room or your dorm until the whole situation dies down a little."

What? Is that what you dragged me here for?

"Everyone will be talking about something else by tomorrow, anyway." He went on.

What? Why would they talk about something else? This is a big thing! Since when do people forget about the Malfoys and talk about _something else_? I mean, we're talking about one of the wealthiest pureblood families in all of England! Are you on magic-crack?!

"So," he nodded again. "Okay. Bye."

What? What?! That's it?! All that walking and dragging me through the halls and _that's IT_?!

He turned and walked back down the corridor. My whole body seemed to be frozen on the spot. "Hey, Harry Potter!" I called after him suddenly. He turned around just before he rounded the corner.

I paused for a moment, then shook my head. "Never mind. Gobbling gargoyles." I mumbled to the skinny old man in the portrait, shuffling inside as soon as it opened.

It's not like I was going to say anything, anyway. I hate when I do that. You know, call people or something, and then realize that I didn't even have anything to say. What's the point, really? It's just an impulsive thing, I suppose.

But seriously, why did he have to escort me to the common room? How does he even know what it is? He's not a prefect or anything, is he? Even if he was, would he know? Why did he apologize for Ginny? Why can't she apologize for herself? What kind of farewell is "So, okay. Bye."? Why did I –

Oh. Oh. Nooo…

I called him "Harry Potter" didn't I? I did! No, I didn't! Well, I did, but… This doesn't mean that Marge was right, okay? It just means that I chose to call him by his first and last name and

I'm going to go CRAZY!

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There's something reassuring about Sundays. Like, the fact that there aren't any classes to attend. And the fact that you can sleep in basically as late as you want.

Except, you know, I had the sudden urge to contradict the normal Sunday plan. You know, the one that I've been living by these past fifteen years. The one where I stay in bed until noon, then get up to eat and bathe, then return to my room for a bit of light thinking and whatnot.

I dumped my bag on the table and pulled out my timetable. "Double Potions." I read aloud the first class for Monday. Is it weird that I haven't had potions yet? I think it's weird, but, then again, who am I to question the ways of the almighty _Hogwarts_? Whatever. I have homework to do.

There are twelve ways to conjugate an apple. Or is that _conjure_? I can't even read my own handwriting!

I took the hair-tie out of my hair and ran my hands through it as I leaned back in the chair. This is just great. I'm going to fail Transfiguration and I haven't even been here for longer than… how long have I been here, anyway? My brain hurts, I can't count.

"Lucy."

I looked up from my hair-tie, of which I was busy pulling some of my stray hairs out of. Am I going bald or what? What's with the shedding?

"Draco." I looked back down at my hair-tie, scrunching my face as I untwisted a strand of hair from around the small band. (I'm grossed out, and this is _my_ hair!)

I saw him sit down next to me out of the corner of my eye. I raised an eyebrow, but didn't take my eyes off the hair-tie. "Something you needed?" I asked him.

"You weren't at dinner last night." He said. "And I couldn't find you afterwards."

"Why?" I got hold of the small black band in my mouth, clamping my teeth on it tightly as I tugged on the strands of hair. "Did you have to talk to me about something?" How are they still stuck there?! Just come off you damned little things! Oh, ew, I think a hair just went in my mouth. "Thhht!" I stuck my tongue out, letting the hair-tie fall in my lap. "Thhht!"

"No." He said, not even bothering to ask why I was suddenly spitting all over my Transfiguration essay.

"Thhht!" I spit. "Well – thhht – what did you want? Thhht!" Gross! Get it off my tongue! Get it off, get it off!

"Nothing." He replied sharply. "Stop spitting, you look like an animal!"

I "Thhht!"ed one more time just to annoy him, until I finally stuck my finger in my mouth and pulled the strand of hair off my tongue. Ew. "Then why were you looking for me?" I asked him, wiping my hand on the black pants I was wearing.

He stood up, then. "Just forget it, Lucy. Do your homework." He walked away without saying another word.

Gee, Brother Dearest. You say that as though I don't need any _help_!

Not that he'd be able to help me, anyway. I don't care how smart everyone says he is. I bet I know more about conjugating apples than him. I mean conjuring. Conjuring.

Whatever.

As I looked towards the door, I noticed Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Harry Potter, that Longbottom boy, and another large-eyed girl that I had never seen before seated at a table not far away. Within hearing distance, in fact.

How long have they been there?! Were they here when I got here? No, that's not possible. I know I saw a group of people sitting at that table when I walked in, but… Oh no. It was them. So, that's why Draco was acting as though he didn't want to say… whatever he'd actually sought me out to say? Oh, who knows? He's a weirdo, anyway. I bet he would have done that even if they weren't sitting a few feet away and –

Look away, Luce. Look away… That's good. So… _Apples are conjured in a number of ways_. That's a good start to the essay. Man, am I a genius or what? Wait. Is the essay on apples or just all things conjure-able? Or just apple-sized things? Or maybe it was just fruits? Crap.

Not long after that, I –

Okay, I tell a lie.

Three hours later (much better), I was joined by none other than… Justin Finch-Fletchley.

I looked up when he sat across from me. I decided not to speak. Like, you know how sometimes… when a rabid animal is near you, it's best not to "make any sudden movements" or make any noise whatsoever. Or, do you just run when a rabid animal is around? I forget. Anyway, the point is that I was completely resolved to totally ignore him.

"I heard about your dad." He said.

Well, duh. Who here hasn't?

"So –" He started before I cut him off.

"I'm not talking about that just now." I said flatly without looking up, as if that solved the whole matter.

It kind of did, actually.

Justin nodded, then. "Okay. I suppose you want to take your mind off it, right?"

I said "kind of." Not completely.

I looked up at him briefly, before looking back down. "Actually, I'm working on a Transfiguration essay, and since I suck at Transfiguration like a mute sucks at speeches, I can't think of anything else."

Was that too harsh? No, I don't think so. He deserves it. That annoying little first-kiss-stealer.

He didn't seem affected by (or maybe he hadn't noticed) my sarcasm. "Really? Would you like any help, then?"

Yes, I would. But, sadly, not from you.

"Not really." I shrugged. "I think I need a break." I looked across the small table at him. "I've already sort of confused transfiguring things with conjuring things."

"Alright, then." He nodded. "Take a break. Do you want to go outside –"

"No, I'm okay, thanks."

"Oh, well. Would you like to –"

"That's nice, but I'm all set."

"Do you –"

"No."

He nodded. How can he just nod like I haven't turned him down three times in a row in under a minute? Is he that dense, or is he putting on some kind of façade?

"I've been thinking about that night I gave you the tour." He said.

Okay, he is dense. What kind of guy just talks about these things after I've just said "no" to three of his suggestion-things?! You stupid, stupid boy!

I looked up at him, trying to give him one of my most bored looks. "Really? Because I've been _not_ thinking about it, you know."

That's as subtle as I can be without saying, "Get a life and never speak about that to anyone or I'll strangle you." Take it or leave it, man.

"You know, I meant all the things I said." He went on.

And Finch-Fletchley fumbles the quaffle at the last minute, sending thousands of Hufflepuffs into choruses of boos as all the other houses laugh and pummel him with tomatoes and other such fruits/'is-it-a-fruit-or-a-vegetable's! Yeah. That was my attempt at a Quidditch metaphor. Shows how much I don't play, right? Does Finch-Fletchley even play Quidditch? Maybe I should ask.

I opened my mouth to ask, "Hey, do you play Quidditch?" but I didn't get a chance to say anything past "He-" before he started talking again.

"And I really liked kissing you –"

"I!" I said loudly, suddenly remembering that my newly sworn enemies were within hearing distance and could probably hear every word Justin was saying. "_I_… don't think it's necessary to talk about such things at times like, say, now, because –"

"Are you avoiding me?" He interrupted. Man, how rude, I hate when people interrupt me.

"No, no, no, no." I lied. Because I am, in fact, avoiding him. "Where would you get an idea like that?"

"You usually run out of the common room when I enter it." He said. "You either eat your meals on the other side of the Hufflepuff table, at the Gryffindor table, or you don't go to meals at all." He paused. "Oh, and you were a little mean yesterday in the common room. I'm just explaining, though. No offense."

"None taken." I shook my head.

Mean? When was I mean? What a jerk! …Why am I _lying_?!

I shook my head again. "No, you know what? You seem like an okay person, Finch – I mean, Justin – so I'm not going to lie to you." I raised an eyebrow at him. "The reason I run out of the common room when you enter it is because if I don't, then you seem to acquire this really strange habit of speaking to me. For _no reason_! How weird is that? And I don't sit with you at the Hufflepuff table because I sit with Margie, who coincidentally sits far away from you. I sit at the Gryffindor table because I'm friends – _was_ friends – with Ginny and Colin. You know who they are, am I right? And when I don't go to meals at all, believe me, that has nothing to do with you. It may sound hard to believe to a great, healthy guy like you, but sometimes I'm just _not hungry_."

He blinked at me, so I went on. "And if you call me telling you that you had food in your teeth _mean_, then you obviously have no appreciation for a little kindness every once in awhile. I mean, seriously! What if I hadn't said anything? You would have looked in the mirror later and seen that you have food in your teeth. And it would have driven you crazy because you probably wouldn't know how long it had been there. I know this, trust me. Or worse, what if you hadn't looked in the mirror at all until _way_ later?! You could have talked to a million people afterwards, and they all would have been secretly laughing at you! Yes, just like I was. I was laughing at you. In my mind, I was hysterical. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a cruel person. It was just funny. Besides, no one was around! Which makes it a _sincere_ kind of_ pointing-out-that-you-have-food-in-your-teeth_, not a mean one."

He opened his mouth to say something, but I lifted my hand to signal that I wasn't finished. "And, yes, I've been avoiding you! I thought you'd get the hint, but nooo, you have to be just like every other guy! Dense, dense, and even more dense! Do I have to spell it out for you? Are you listening? Because listening is a key factor here. Do you know why?" I paused, but not long enough for him to give a real answer except a few blinks.

"I'll tell you why." I continued. "Because, that other night when you gave me that tour? Yeah? It was _so_ boring that I stopped listening after about the twentieth time you said the _words 'fascinating, spectacular, and wondrous sight_' in under a minute. And by the lake? I swear I was trying to pay attention to you but after awhile I just kind of zoned out! And the next thing I knew you were, like, attacking me with your mouth! Talk about a violation! I almost had a heart attack! Don't worry, though. I'm sure someone, anyone, will find you interesting and all that, but not me. Honestly, you kind of freaked me out." I stopped for a few seconds to catch my breath. "And who _said_ you could kiss me?! You didn't even ask! I mean, I know guys have this whole thing where they're totally oblivious to how the opposite sex thinks but do you people really know _nothing_?!"

He opened his mouth again, but I lifted my hand once more. "And to top it off, I don't know a thing about Transfiguration because, oops, Hogwarts is further ahead than I was at Durmstrang. And my dad… I… And my _only_ friend right now is stuck in the hospital wing, so I have no one to talk to!" I cupped my hands over my nose and mouth suddenly, a small force shuddering through my body. "ACHOO! ACHOO!"

"Bless you." Justin said quietly a few moments later. I nodded and he asked, "Are you sick? You don't look so good."

Oh, so now I'm ugly. That's real nice. Real way to win me over, Justin. Boys really are stupid. I mean –

Oh…

I shook my head. "Of course not. I'm not sick. I just need to… study."

He nodded and stood up. "Listen, Lucy." He said lowly. "Thanks for being honest. If you ever just want to talk, you know…" He smiled. "See you later."

What? What?! NO! You're supposed to be angry! You're supposed to be furious that I said all those horrible things about you! What is your _problem_?!

I watched him turn and walk around a bookshelf, out of sight. My mouth was hanging open and I shook my head suddenly. Letting out a low groan, I stomped my feet on the floor and banged my head on the table a few times.

"Miss Malfoy." I heard a tight voice say. Looking up, I saw Madam Pince standing over me with a scowl on her face. "This is a library. I'd advise you to follow the rules or remove yourself. There are students trying to study in here. Is that understood?"

I nodded quickly. "Right. Sorry." I rolled my eyes behind her back when she turned and left.

Quickly shoving my books in my bag, I stood up, only then remembering that my hair was still down, falling on my shoulders and whatnot. "Crap." I mumbled after having a quick look around for my hair-tie. Where did I put it…? Oh, whatever. I ran my fingers through my hair hastily, making only a small note that it was actually nice and soft for once. (Score one for Lucinda! YES!)

Now, where should I be right now?

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"Margie!" I practically screamed once I rounded the corner towards the dungeons. "What in Merlin's name are you doing out of the hospital wing? Has Madam Pomfrey finally gone mad with all those potions near her?! She just _let you go_?! Speak to me you stupid girl! Are you well or not?! Should I get a hot towel? You look a little swollen."

Marge frowned, a sudden change from the small smile she had been wearing on her face. "I look swollen?" She whispered. "Are you serious?"

"No." I shook my head. "So, Pomfrey really let you go? When? This morning? I didn't see you in the dorm last night, did I?"

"Um, no." She laughed. "Not unless you're hallucinating. And yes, Madam Pomfrey finally let me go. She says I'm not entirely well, so I still have to take a few little –" She stopped talking and rolled her eyes after taking a glance in my direction.

I was looking up at the ceiling, my mouth open a little as I twirled around slowly. "Yeah, okay." I nodded towards her. "So, this is potions? How does this class go? Is he crazy like Trelawney? Strict like McGonagall? Boring like Binns?"

"More like, heading this way, so be quiet." She hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

I turned around briefly, to see a tall, greasy-haired man walking towards the group of student down the corridor. I whirled around, gaping at Margaret. "Marge! I know him! Do you know who that is?!"

She nodded slowly. "Um, yeah. He's only been my potions teacher for the past four years."

"No!" I hissed. "That's, that's… _Mr. Snape_!"

"That's _Professor_ Snape," I heard an icy voice behind me. "And you are?"

I turned around, looking up at my potions professor. "Oh, sorry, sir. I'm Lucy – Lucinda – Malfoy."

He stared at me blankly for a few seconds before blinked and nodding curtly. "Class has begun." He said to Marge and the others behind me. "You're all late. Five points each from Hufflepuff."

"Nice going, Luce." Margie grumbled to me as we followed the crowd of students into the classroom. "I thought you'd know, you know. I mean, we Hufflepuffs like to keep a low profile. Snape hates us almost as much as the Gryffindors, I swear."

"Sorry." I mumbled, taking a seat next to her at the front.

"Do you know who he is?" I whispered to Margie twenty minutes later as we took notes from the board.

"Don't speak in here…" She warned under her breath.

I opened my mouth to tell her what I had planned on saying ever since I'd seen his black robes coming down the hall.

He's my dad's friend, that's what he is. And he _teaches_ here?! How did I not know this?!

"Begin your potions." Professor Snape's voice came from the other side of the room. "You have thirty minutes."

"This is too weird." I said to Margie a few moments later. "I mean, he's, like, changed my diapers."

"First of all: ew." Marge said lowly. "And second: I doubt that. I mean, Snape? Change diapers? You're kidding, right?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. My memories from my infantile days are a little hazy, you understand. But still. You know what I mean." I paused. "Do either of your parents have any brothers?"

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No, actually. Both of my parents are –"

"Shut up." I told her. "My example won't work if your parents are both only children." I paused. "Okay, can you _imagine_ that your, say, father has a brother?"

"Depends." She shrugged as she looked over our ingredients on the table, making sure we had everything we needed. "Do I have to imagine children?"

"No." I chuckled. "That would be mad funny, though! I mean, ahem. Anyway. Imagine that you have an uncle. Now imagine that he came to Hogwarts, and taught a class here. It's pretty much like that."

"That would be cool." She grinned. "Don't look at me like that. It would be cool because you forgot another little detail."

"What's that?"

"You forgot to tell me to imagine that this 'uncle' of mine was Snape."

I smirked. "Is he really that bad? I mean, I'm not saying he's nice or anything, believe me. But whenever he would eat at our house or whatever, he wasn't openly _rude_." I shrugged. "He mostly just shut up. He only ever really talked to my dad or me."

"You?" She snickered. "Why you?"

I shrugged. "You have to understand that this was back when I was, what, ten-years-old? He _had_ to put up with me. I wouldn't shut up. Plus, I thought it was kinda cool that he didn't have any kids. I used to follow him around when I was, like, four."

"You're so weird." She scrunched up her nose. "That's the saddest, most disgusting thing I have ever heard."

"Shut up!" I laughed. "If it's any constellation, I didn't know any better, okay?"

"Consolation." She corrected me. "And that's true. But, no, it's not."

"Shut up, Marge."

"You brought it up, Lucy. I mean, I could have lived the whole _rest of my life_ without hearing any of that. Especially the following-him-around bit."

"Yes, well." I rolled my eyes. "You don't see me criticizing your choice in friends."

"Oh, so now you're _friends_?"

"I'm going to strangle you within an inch of your life." I growled.

"Looking forward to it." She smiled. "Oh, and just so we're clear? I refused to discuss any of your family stuff with Ginny and Harry when they came to see me in the hospital wing the other night."

"Really?"

"Really."

I grinned and nudged Marge with my elbow. "Thanks, Marge. That was real nice of you."

She nodded as she mixed something into my cauldron for me (oh, was that my job? Oops.). "Sure, whatever. You know, you're not as annoying as I thought you would be."

Gee, thanks.

"Really?" I said in a flighty way. "Because you're not as _tactful_ as I thought you would be."

"Heh. Shut up." She laughed. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah." I shrugged.

I know what you meant, Marge.

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::AN:: Sorry for the sort-of long delay! I hope you all like this chapter! Please review!


	15. You Have No Idea

**::DISCLAIMER::** I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with it. I came up with Margie and Lucy in my own head, though.

**::AN::** I know it's been forever and a day and-a-half since I last updated, but all I can say is I'm _sorry_ and blame _school_, not me. Much love.

There's no time for review-responses this time, as it's, like, 3:03 a.m. (passes out at desk) Sorry, though. Next time I'll respond to the reviews, okay? Promise!

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**Chapter Fifteen**

You know, my mom always used to say to me that a respectable woman of noble (pure) blood should obey her husband and stay quiet as much as possible, especially in public.

I so disagree.

I think that if a person has something on their mind, they should just outright say it, no matter what.

Especially if it's funny. Funny thoughts are not to be dwelt on. If you do, then you change the wording or try to make it even funnier. And then it sucks, because if something is genuinely funny, you can't possibly make it "funnier." And you can't add things to it, because then it's like you planned it out, which is lamer than lame, as you will have only successfully "killed" the joke/funny-thing.

So, basically, if you think of something, you should say it. Just let it out there. You can deal with the consequences later. What you can't deal with is sitting around later and thinking of something that you should've or could've said, thus driving yourself mad.

Which is why I openly said to Margie as we were getting dressed/brushing our hair/shuffling around the dorm like a bunch of drunken hags, "There's no panic like the panic you momentarily feel when you've got your hand or head stuck in something."

She paused mid-brush with her hand in the air. "Right… So… Are you hungry? We should really get to breakfast."

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"Where do we sit?" I asked Marge just before we walked through the Great Hall doors.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Colin wanted me to sit with him, so… that's me."

Marge, you TRAITOR!

"Margie!" I hissed as I followed her towards the Gryffindor table. "Who is more important to you, Colin or ME?!"

She rolled her eyes and turned around to face me. "I promised him, okay? What's the big deal? You can sit with us, you know. In fact I'd prefer it, since you always seem to lighten the mood with your random ideas and sayings and whatnot."

"I can't sit there." I said flatly. "Are you daft? Do you not get that I'm angry with those people?"

"So don't be." She shrugged again. "You're the only one who is angry, you know. If you could just get over it, then –"

Get over it? Get over it?! Oh, Margie, I can guarantee that you would be singing a different tune if it were you!

"But, if you were mad at them, I wouldn't abandon you." I said pathetically.

"I'm not abandoning you." She said exasperatedly as we made our way to the side of the table. "Just sit. Eat. Speak occasionally. Who knows? You might like it."

Yeah, right. About as much as I like Harry Potter.

…

Let's jump back for a moment and rephrase that.

About as much as I like knitting sweaters with my great aunt Harry. I mean Haley. Haley.

"Haley." I said aloud, shaking my head.

"Who?" Margie furrowed her brow as we reached the spot where Colin was sitting with some treacherous people who I won't lower myself to name. You know, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Harry Potter. Harry. Potter.

Harry Potter.

"Margie, there's something wrong with me." I said suddenly, clutching at the sleeve of her robe.

"What is it?" She asked, concerned (I think). "Are you sick?"

What is it with these people? Am I pale and ghastly? What?

"No." I shook my head. "We've been over this. I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys don't get sick."

"Well, what is it?"

"I can't stop thinking about –" I paused, becoming aware that there were a few people staring at Margie and I, listening to every word I was saying.

"Can't stop thinking about what?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um… Uh…" I can't tell her. Not while everyone's just watching. Listening. Eavesdropping. Closing in. Swarming me. Smothering me.

"Never mind." I shook my head. "Um. So, eat until you burst, all right? I'll be… away."

Turning on my heel, I walked towards the Hufflepuff table and sat down next to the first familiar face that I saw. "If I tell you something will you promise not to tell anyone in the entire world that I told you?" I asked.

Justin Finch-Fletchley turned and looked at me as though I'd gone insane for a second. But then he shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Sure, why not?"

"I'msorryI'vebeensomeanandhorribletoyoucanyoupleaseforgivemeandmayIhaveabiteofyourmuffin?" I said all in one breath. I hope he understood that. He better have understood that. That was a once in a lifetime thing that I am definitely not repeating.

"What?" He asked, dumbfounded.

I blinked. "I'm sorry for being –" I stopped when I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. "Ow."

"What's wrong?" He asked. When I shrugged and shook my head, rubbing my stomach, he sighed. "You don't look so well. Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey."

That is IT! I will not tolerate this! I need to be in the presence of someone who won't suddenly tell me how sick/unwell I look!

"Yeah, I might do that. You know, maybe tomorrow. Or, never." I stood up, ignoring Finch-Fletchley's sudden spout of "Hey, where are you going?" and made my way to another part of the Hall. A place that I had never been to.

"Hey Vincent, how ya been?" I said cheerfully as I squeezed in between him and my favorite brother Draco.

Okay, people. Don't get any ideas. He's only my favorite because he's my only. Brother, that is.

What other "only" would I be talking about?

"What are you doing?" Draco asked in a threateningly ominous tone (at least he probably _thought_ it was).

"Sitting here." I shrugged. "Did you know that I've never actually eaten lunch with you since I've been here? I wonder what mom would say to that. She's always telling me to chum up to you. Well, those weren't her exact words but, you know."

"Lucy." Gregory said slowly, as though it was hard for him to get the word out. Even then, I had to pretty much guess at what he was saying.

I figure he's still suffering from the side-effects of all those Crucatius curses his dad used to put on him whenever he'd do something he wasn't supposed to.

I hope he doesn't do that anymore. It's turned poor Greg into a grunting mess.

Pretty soon I'll have to don him Gregory the Grunter.

I grinned. "Of course. Did ya miss me? I missed you guys, you know. I haven't seen you in ages."

"Go. Away." Draco said through clenched teeth.

"Why?" I asked innocently. "I can sit here, too, you know. I haven't spoken to half of these people in I don't know how long! We have a _lot_ of catching up to do."

"You're in Hufflepuff." Vincent said as though it wasn't obvious from my robes.

"All the better." I shrugged, giving him a soft punch on the arm. "Diversity is good for the soul. Or, the heart. Whichever."

"Drakkie-poo, what's the Hufflepuff doing at the Slytherin table?" I heard a most annoying voice ask from the other side of Draco.

Pug… Pansy-pug-face. I can feel my eye twitching now.

"I don't know what she's doing here, Pansy." Draco said boredly as the dog-girl drooled on his neck or ear or something.

I thought he broke up with her! What the hell?!

"So, Vin!" I exclaimed, turning the other way. "How's life treating you? I see you've grown mighty tall. I like tall boys, you know."

Yeah, tall boys. Not necessarily gargantuan boys, but… whatever.

I think I am boy-deprived. Need… sexy boy… now…

I felt a sharp tug as someone grabbed my elbow, only to turn and find Draco standing up next to me, pulling me to my feet. "We'll be right back."

"You, sister _dearest_," he said through clenched teeth, "are getting on my last nerve." I followed him across the Great Hall, wondering where exactly he was going.

Heh, cool. Draco Malfoy. Walking towards the Gryffindor table.

He's practically pulling my arm out of its socket, but still. I find this a worthy cause.

"You," he said finally, stopping to turn around and shake me by the shoulders, "are already a disgrace to the whole Malfoy name. Stay away from the Slytherins and stay away from _Crabbe_."

Oh, look. He's playing the annoyingly overprotective brother role! He's so very good at it! Three cheers for Draco! Hip-hip-HOORAY! Hip-hip-HOORAY!

"Gffshtt!" I burst out as my brother shoved me onto a bench and turned around, heading back towards the Slytherin table.

I turned to my left, a sloppy grin plastered on my face. "Well, hello, Marge. Did you just see that? I'm sure I'm not the only one to have witnessed that! Did you catch the –"

She held her hand up, her left eyebrow going with it, "Whoa. Lucy, what in Merlin's name was that all about?"

I swung my legs over the bench and nodded to Colin and Ginny, fully resolved to ignore the other people around me. "I don't know. I guess Draco doesn't like the idea of me having a thing with Vincent."

"Ew." Ginny gasped lowly, an utterly horrified expression on her face. "Merlin's beard, Lucy, have you got bad taste or what…"

Oh, you have no idea.

I mean, what?

I blinked at her. "What? Gads, no, you fool! It was a devious plan to get back at the Almighty Annoying One; you may know him as 'Malfoy.'"

Marge chortled next to me. "I get it… You wanted to see if… Aha!"

I nodded to her. "Now, Marge, love, if you don't mind, I'll think I'll go celebrate my glorious victory with a… I don't know, but I'll think of something."

"No!" Ginny exclaimed. "Sit with us! Come on, you don't look mad anymore."

I turned to Marge, who studied me for a second before she nodded vigorously. "Oh, please, please, please, Lucy. This way you won't say I've abandoned you in you time of need again or –"

"Oh, do shush up." I hissed at her, turning my attention to Ginny. "So, Gin, what's say I forgive you for…"

"Having a big mouth?" She finished for me. "I promise I will never, ever –"

I shrugged. "Do you have a muffin? Or sausage roll, perhaps?"

She wrinkled her brow. "What?"

"Well," I explained. "We should trade something. My forgiveness for your muffin."

"Give it to her," Marge said quickly. "She hasn't eaten in three days."

Ginny quickly tossed me her muffin and I studied it for a moment. "What did you do to it, hmm? I can't possibly eat a contaminated muffin, you know. It could be hazardous to my – Mfrglnfk! Agh!" Unfortunately, Margie shoving the blueberry muffin in my mouth, causing me to choke and gag cut me off.

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"I've never seen anything like it, Colin." I said as smart-sounding as I possibly could. "Never in my worst nightmares have I seen anything so unpleasant, so disturbing, so –"

"It's just a muggle picture." Ginny sighed finally as she leaned back against the tree.

I shook my head sadly and "tsk tsk"ed at the photograph Colin was holding up for us. "That is a most disgusting picture, by the way. You've caught the girl completely off-guard! She looks hideous!"

"That's you." He said flatly.

"That is not me!" I shrieked, lunging forward and making a violent grab for the picture. "How could you, you little twerp?! Look at my hair! It's just here, there, dear Merlin, it's everywhere." I shuddered.

"It's actually very pretty." Hermione assured me as she looked up from her dangerously large textbook. "You're very photogenic."

Yeah, well. You _lie_.

"Even Harry said it was pretty." Ginny pointed out as she shielded her eyes from the sun.

Harry? Harry who? Certainly not –

"Did he?" Marge questioned, raising her eyebrows and shooting me a look. "Wow, Luce. You should be honored. To have the famous Harry Potter call you _pretty_."

I'm not honored.

I'm in shock.

"Harry's not like that." Hermione rolled her eyes, not looking up from her book. "He comes off as a little rude sometimes, yeah, but that's not him. He's just a little shut-off to people he's not close to."

Right. Like I haven't heard that before.

"Whatever." Ginny grumbled. "So Colin, do you have the rest of the pictures you took the other day or what?"

Me? Pretty? That's so nice.

"Sure." Colin threw his hand in his bag and rummaged around a bit. "They all turned out fantastic. Especially the photos of Marge."

He thought I was pretty? I don't agree, but still. That's… sweet.

"Oh, you're just saying that 'cause I'm right here." Marge laughed. "I'll bet they're worse than that picture of Lucy."

I frowned.

Way to kill my mood, Marge.

I looked down at the grass and tuned out Margie, Colin, Ginny, and Hermione. Who cares, though? It's not like they really needed me in the conversation.

So, pretty, huh? Maybe he was just commenting on the picture quality. According to Colin, it was "fantastic" picture quality. I heard that Harry was raised by muggles, so he must know all this muggle-camera nonsense as well.

That must be what he was talking about.

I'm most certainly not pretty. Hermione was just being nice. Ginny, too.

I bet now that Harry didn't even say that. They must have some plan to try and get me not to hate him or something like that. That's horrible. I feel manipulated.

"Lucy, are you coming?"

"I think she's going to stay out here for a bit longer."

He does stare at me an awful lot, though. Sometimes I'm sure I must have something on my face, or maybe my hair is sticking up in horrible ways it shouldn't, but other times I'm positive that I look perfectly fine.

It must be my natural "ugliness." He's so repulsed that he can't help but stare. I'm like a jellyfish stranded on a beach shore, being poked at by a cruel young child.

"Lucy?"

It's annoying, really. Sometimes he doesn't even bother to look away when I catch him at it. We'll just sit there and have a stare-fest or what have you. It's unnerving, really.

"Lucy, are you okay?" Marge asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I looked around for a moment, my eyes widening. "It's almost dark." I noted.

Marge laughed. "Yeah. The others just went in for the night. You know Gryffindors, they like to party in their common room around this time. At least that's what I've heard."

Before I could stop myself, I turned on her. "What about Colin? Shouldn't you have followed him?"

"What?" She blinked.

"Colin." I repeated. "Don't act stupid, Marge, I'm not an idiot. It's so obvious, the way you two go sneaking around. You're always –"

"What are you talking about?"

"Marge!" I exclaimed. "I have eyes! I've seen you two! You're always flirting or pretending not to be flirting, I don't know. You could have told me you and him were having a thing, you know! I thought you were my friend."

She furrowed her brow at me. "Yeah? Well, you could have confided in me!"

"About what?!"

"About _Harry_!" She hissed.

OHMIGOD, SHE KNOWS!

"What are you talking about?" I asked innocently.

"Lucy!" She shrieked. "It's obvious!"

It's obvious?! Oh, I think I'm going to faint. Dear Merlin, how many people know?!

I AM NOT OBVIOUS! I'm alluringly subtle and –

Die, Margie, DIE!

"Listen, Lucy." She said lowly. "You can't be angry at me for not telling you about me and Colin because I don't even know what's going on between he and I, so there."

What? Margie? Colin?

"AHHH!" I screamed. "Oh, I didn't know what I was saying, Margie! I didn't really believe that you two were–! Oh, the visuals! My eyes! My eyes!"

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

I'm gonna find him, and I'm going to talk to him and make him explain this stare-age thing he's got going on. I need to explain that it's really beginning to irk me and so he needs to stop before I totally freak out. As it's Saturday, I have all day to find him.

Thankfully, Margie gave me a general direction to where he might be. She "didn't want me to get lost again" apparently.

I'm a bit jittery.

Only a tad, though. Not a lot. Not horribly, anyway. I mean –

Whoops, dropped my wand there.

"It's been awhile since we talked, you know." I heard a girl's voice.

Oh, people. Joy.

"I miss spending time with you." The girl continued, her voice getting louder as I walked down the corridor. "No, really, I do."

Oh, who cares you silly girl? People are trying to walk these halls peacefully in search of The Boy Who Had A Huge Staring Problem, not listen to you go on about spending time with someone. Honestly.

I rounded the corner, coughing loudly, fully prepared to break up any sort of moment I might witness otherwise. I paused when I saw what was a few yards away from me.

A real pretty girl with long, shiny black hair was standing extraordinarily close to a messy-haired boy with glasses. I tilted my head to the side as the girl turned towards me and raised an eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" She asked icily.

I shook my head slowly. "No… I think… I must've taken a wrong turn somewhere. Obviously this hall is reserved for your personal… whatevers."

"Get lost, Hufflepuff." She spat.

I glanced at the boy with her, who had suddenly developed his staring issue again. Nodding to the girl, I turned and headed around the corner and up the first set of stairs I saw, desperate to get as far away from the scene as possible.

Who was she? A friend? A girlfriend?

A Ravenclaw by the looks of it, that's for sure.

So he likes smart girls? I can be smart, really.

Oh, face it, Luce, you can't be smart. Not in this lifetime or the next. Maybe in the one after that, though, which is something to look forward to. Sort of.

She's so… pretty. I can't compete with that. And her hair is so long and straight and… nice.

"Oomph." I said as I walked into something, rounding a corner.

"Lucy?" I heard someone laugh.

Oh, no. Just leave me alone. I need to go through my whole thinking process before I do anything rash.

I looked up anyway. "Oh, hi Justin." I quickly looked back down.

OF ALL THE PEOPLE TO BUMP INTO NOW!

"Lucy?" He repeated, tilting my head up. "Are you crying? What's wrong?"

Crying? Oh, I assure I am not crying, you daft boy.

He wiped his palm across my cheek and I looked up at him. Okay, so I'm crying, what of it? "Nothing's wrong." I lied. When in reality, everything is wrong. _Everything_.

"You're lying." He whispered. He sighed then and let go of my face, only to turn and put his arm around my shoulder, steering me down the hall. "Come on, let's go talk somewhere."

Talk? What is there to talk about? I refuse to discuss anything with you, you vermin!

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" He asked when we'd reached a corridor I hadn't seen before.

Tell you what's going on…? Hmm. You drive a hard bargain, goof fellow.

So, I saw the boy I was looking for all close and personal with a really pretty Ravenclaw girl.

Why does that bother me? It's nothing big. It's not like they were kissing or anything. I mean, if that had been doing _that_, then –

"Lucy?"

He's such a jerk. He could've said something. Even if it was something lame, like out of those impossible muggle films where the male lead exclaims, "It's not what you think!" when it's always what you think.

He didn't have to just stand there.

I hate him.

"Luce?"

I looked up Justin, trying to clear my vision by blinking a bit more. "I don't want to talk about it." I whispered.

I hate him a lot.

"Okay." Justin nodded. "We don't have to talk about it… Do you need anything? Should I go get your friend Margaret?"

A lot, a lot.

"You could kiss me." I told him. "That would make me feel better."


	16. And I Thought I'd Gone Mad

**::DISCLAIMER::** Harry Potter isn't mine. The whole universe of HP belongs to JK Rowling, which I think works out great for everyone. Don't sue me. Oh, and Lucy and Marge are mine.

**::AN::** I'm not even going to bother making excuses for not updating soon. It's getting old. But I am sorry that it's taken me so long.

**OH, WAIT! READ THIS PLEASE:** I don't think the site sent out an alert for my last chapter, because all I did was replace the "notice" with the real chapter fifteen. Thankfully, people who read my new fic 'The War Between The Houses' found this out when I posted the info in an author's note at the end of the first chapter. But if you haven't read chapter fifteen yet (the real chapter, not the stupid notice), please go back and read it so that you don't get confused or anything.

Review-responses… Because I promised. (Yay.):

**Am Loves Syusuke:** Square… hahah… I guess it is. Sorry about the typo! I try to proofread my stuff as much as I can, but since I wrote it, I tend to miss stuff. And my beta is, I guess, no longer my beta, lol.

**larkspur277:** Thanks! Here's more, lol!

**msj:** Oh, I don't mean to worry you! I'm really glad that I'm over my writer's-block-i-ness, too. I hate Cho too (glares at Cho, who is cowering in the corner). Thanks for being my faithful reviewer! (yay) I hope you like this chapter!

**sweetiepiepirate:** I know I left you hanging. I meant to update ASAP, but… yeah. I'm surprised that "string" y'all were hanging on didn't snap and send you all plummeting to your untimely doom. (Or, er, something like that.) I've read the Georgia Nicholsen books (I love them!), but I don't think Lucy is exactly like her… Is she? Oh, God, I may have a spaz attack. Thanks for reviewing, though! I hope you like this chapter! (See the next review for Lucy/Harry info.)

**Audrey Claio: **See above review (to sweetiepiepirate). Everyone wants to see more "Harry/Lucy stuff"! You'll see some good stuff soon, but keep in mind that Lucy is crazy and also that she doesn't really know Harry (she just thinks he's uber hott and do-able and nice-smelling and whatnot), and it would be really weird if they suddenly got together or something. Especially since she's a Malfoy and he's, well, Harry Potter. Things like these take time (but, God, not that much time. I think I'd strangle myself). Please don't combust! I hope you like this chapter!

**Agapanthus:** Aw, thanks for reviewing! Of course you're on my favs list. You're awesome. I've changed my profile recently (it was totally outdated, dude). You're not even up to here, I guess, but I'm glad you like my fic!

**totalhottie:** Tolkien? Jar Jar Binks? Spiderman? Okay, sure, all those things are cool, but they have absolutely nothing to do with my fics! Are you on crack? It's okay, I won't tell anyone. (lol) But, dude. Um, thanks for reviewing, even though you're not up to this chapter. I guess.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Justin blinked down at me and I had nothing to do but blink back.

YES! Kiss me! Then maybe that horrid Boy Who Is So Impossibly Rude will miraculously walk by and see us and feel a tug of jealousy and attack you with loud shouts of, "Get the bloody hell off her!" amidst his proclamations of sweet love to me.

How romantic.

That'd be killing two birds with one stone, that would be. Get Harry. Get rid of Justin.

I am checking these items off of my List of Things to Do Before I Die (er?) as I blink back at Justin.

"Lucy, there's something wrong with you and I-" Justin began before I clapped my hand over his mouth.

Oh, so he can attempt to snog me when I'm not even _paying attention_, but not when I request it?

What is _wrong_ with him?!

"For Merlin's sake, you daft boy!" I practically shrieked in his face. "I've just told you to snog me and all you can do is stand there and tell me that there's something wrong with me! What is wrong with boys? I try and I try to understand them," I said to myself looking down at my hands as I removed them from his face. "But I just can't do it. It's so hard. And let's just face it, I'm not that smart. Not like some Ravenclaw or –"

"You look a tad greenish." Justin noted quietly.

Of course I look green! I am green with envy! I mean – ahem – FURY! Fury!

"If you don't put those lips on mine in the next two seconds I am going to do – I don't know what I'm going to do, but it's going to be bad!"

"If you say so." Justin shrugged, grabbing me by the shoulders and leaning forward.

I looked up at him, waiting semi-patiently while crossing my fingers that someone worthwhile could pass by to see me getting my snog on. I sighed, watching him slowly close is eyes.

Then I promptly proceeded to turn away from him and vomit all over the floor.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Not much longer, alright dears? She needs her rest, the poor thing. It seems she's contracted the same illness that Miss Clearwater just managed to rid herself of. I don't know why I didn't think of calling Miss Malfoy in here sooner for a brief check-up, her being one of Miss Clearwater's dorm-mate and everything. I'll have to call in the other girls in their dorm room in a few hours as well. Ah, well. Five minutes!"

Er, _qu'est-ce que_ what? Where am I? What happened?

"Luce? I come with good tidings of joy… And it's not even Christmas."

"Lucy, are you even awake?"

"I don't think she's awake. We should go."

"Shut up! She's sick! She needs friends!"

"We're not her friends."

Oh, Merlin, I know that voice.

I opened my eyes quickly and glared at Ron and Hermione, who just happened to be the first two people I acknowledged. (Whoa, moving blurs. Getting a bit dizzy here… Okay, no, I'm fine, I swear.)

"Where am I?" I half-whined at them, slowly losing my glare.

"She's awake!" I heard someone exclaim from behind Hermione.

"You're in the hospital wing." Hermione informed me. "Madame Pomfrey says that Justin brought you in, only he's already left for dinner. We're in dinner now, but we decided we'd rather visit you instead of eat. And don't mind Ron, he's just a bit upset that he's missing one of his many meals of the day. So, how are you feeling? Do you know what happened? You were brought here unconscious, I heard. Are you warm? Would you like another blanket? It's a bit chilly in here. Oh, you poor thing. You just do whatever Madame Pomfrey tells you to, all right? You need to get better as soon as possible so that you can begin studying for you O.W.L.s. Don't look at me like that, Lucy. I began studying months before you're going to, and I only received –"

"Blimey, she talks a lot and awfully bloody fast." I mumbled, shielding my eyes from the light.

"Sorry." Hermione nodded. "You need rest, don't you? We'll just be going, then, all –"

"Sit down." I heard Marge's voice behind her and watched as my friend's head poked through a small gap between Ron and Hermione's shoulders. "Stand aside!" She ordered. "What Lucy needs is, well, me." She settled into a chair next to my bed and I saw the people behind her take their seats on various chairs and unoccupied beds.

Just who's here? The entire royal guard?

"Don't get cocky." I croaked at Marge, my throat feeling awfully sore.

She smirked at me. "So, Luce? Up for a chat? What were you doing before you came here?"

"And why haven't you been eating?" I heard Ginny's voice from somewhere. "Madame Pomfrey told us that she couldn't give you a sleeping potion because there was nothing in your stomach and it looked as though you hadn't had a proper meal in weeks, making your condition even worse than it already is."

Marge rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, we'll get to that, Gin. Right now I think Lucy should answer my question. Come now, Lucy. Just what have you been up to?"

I blinked at my so-called friend. Just what was she trying to pull? Surely this annoying interrogation wasn't for _my_ pleasure? Ah well, then.

I thought back for a moment, closing my eyes, then I turned to Margie.

"I believe I was with Justin. Obviously. Didn't Pomfrey tell you that he's the one who brought me here?"

"But why?" Margie whispered (loud enough for my father, locked away in Azkaban, to hear, of course. Where did she learn how to whisper?). "Aren't you 'utterly pissed at his crap face', as you put it?"

"Well, yes." I shrugged, though all I gained was a bunch in my blankets near my neck. "But I was walking about and I almost literally ran into him. What was I going to do, tell him to bugger off and leave me be?"

"It wouldn't be the first time." Colin piped up.

Thanks, man.

"Well, I was upset, see-" I paused to cough for a moment, my whole body shuddering with each cough. "Bloody hell, Margie, I think I'm sick."

"Nonsense!" was her quick reply. "Malfoys don't get sick. Remember?"

Oh, kill me now.

I rolled over onto my side, facing away from the group, and closed my eyes. "Yeah, well, that was all perfectly well and true before you went and gave me whatever it is that I've now got." I paused. "I haven't been sick since I was seven-years-old, you know."

"Poor Lucy." Margie cooed and pat my shoulder. "Alright, then. Is there anything we can get you for our next visit?"

"My daddy would be nice." I said.

She laughed and I heard the sound of chairs squeaking on the floor. "I'll see what I can do. Goodnight, Lucy."

"'Night, Lucy."

"See ya, there, Luce."

"Lots of rest, remember! I'll bring you some books next time I come! What's your worst subject – oh! Ow! Fine, then! Stop pinching me, Ginny! Bye, Lucy!"

"G'night Malfoy."

"Yeah. I mean, er, bye. Lucy."

My eyes shot open faster than I ever thought possible and I watched a small group of robed figures exit the dark room.

Oh… my life is crapper than the worst pile of crap. Ever. What in the name of Merlin's beard was Harry Potter doing here?!

Was he… worried about me?

Oh, for the sake of the Malfoy name, pull yourself together, girl! He is a despicable boy with only slight attractive qualities! Shove off, Boy Who Should Have Said Something So That I Could Have Maybe… Done… Something… yeah! I could do better!

Hell, I could do Justin if I wanted to. Not under the circumstances, mind you, but still. It's nice to know that I still have options, even if they do make me want to barf again.

"All right, Miss Malfoy." I heard Pomfrey's voice get louder as she walked toward me with a tray. "It's time for you to eat. Then I'll give you a bit of sleeping potion mixed with corn syrup. I can't give you any straight potions for a few days, with that malnutritioned state of you body and all.

Oh, I assure you, you old ninny, that I am not malnutritioned. I am merely slightly famished.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The next morning, in an attempt to be thrown out of my prison, I sang 'Copacabana' by that American muggle dude, Barry Manilow, every time Madam Pomfrey walked into the room. At first she just kind of paused and then kept on doing whatever it is that she was doing, but by the afternoon, she was about to snap. I could tell.

She came in, holding a tray, and I noticed that there was someone behind her. (One someone or two? Hmm.) But I didn't care.

_"Her name was Lola!"_ I sang at the top of my lungs, much to Pomfrey's delight (not). _"She was a showgirl! With some, uh, feathers on… and a dress too… and she danced… the chacha!"_

Hey. I said I sang it. I didn't say that I sang it word for word or… in a remotely pleasant manner. Trust me. I'm not the best singer in the world. Not even close.

"_At the copa! Copacabana!"_ I sang.

In fact, I'm sure that the worst singer in the world would probably look at me right now and laugh. Just, laugh. Not because I look funny and unhygienic (can you believe that Pomfrey wouldn't let me leave to bathe? To _bathe_!), no, but because I can't carry a tune to save my life.

It's not just me either, no. It's my entire family. Back when Draco and I were still on speaking terms (a millennia ago, it seems), he told me that our mother used to try to sing me to sleep because I was a very fussy toddler, but her voice just made me cry even harder, it was so horrifying. I've never actually heard Mother sing, though. I suppose someone (i.e., Dad) told her to stop. Then there's my Dad, who kind of hums when he's writing letters or something, but I know it's bad because one time I asked him what he was humming and when he told me what it was, I just kind of sat and stared at him for an hour or so because it sounded nothing like it. Draco, of course, can't sing either. He is better than my parent's are though. Or maybe I'm just used to his voice. Or, I was. Back when he would sing me short, totally lame, little rhyme-y songs after I'd fallen off of my broom so that I wouldn't start wailing like a complete div.

"Miss Malfoy," Pomfrey stared at me coldly. "If you're trying to annoy me to the point of releasing you from my care, let me assure you that it is not going to work."

I shrugged. "I suppose I could switch it up a bit. Maybe a bit of Dungbeetle Pride, huh? I heard they were really big back in the 60s. How did that one song go…? _'Watch out! Just watch out for my dung! Watch_ _out for my dung! Don't step any closer, or the dung will – da-da-da-dung will…!_' I forget the rest."

Madam Pomfrey set the tray on a small end-table-like-thing next to me and walked away. I saw Margie skip up to my bed from the doorway.

"It's 'dong' not 'dung.'" She informed me. (Wow, thanks. I'll remember that.) "And how have you been? Are you feeling any better?"

I opened my mouth to say, yes, that I was feeling loads better and that the food Madam Pomfrey was giving me wasn't all that horrible, but then I remembered something and I scoffed at Marge, turning my head away.

"What?" She asked, giving me one of her "what-is-wrong-with-you?" looks.

I stared at a vacant bed across the room. "Are you alone? Right now?" I asked her.

"Um… yes…"

I pounced. "Margie!" I squealed – because if I shouted, Madam Pomfrey was bound to make Margie leave – sitting up straighter. "First of all, you got me sick, which I should hex you into oblivion for, and I would, if I knew how, but I don't, so you're going to get off lucky on this one. And _then_! Then you practically interrogated me on my whereabouts in front of tons of people! Not to mention, He Who Must Not Be Named!"

Margie blinked and stared at me as though I'd officially gone mad, which I hadn't, but I think I was fairly close to it, then she said very slowly, "You Know Who wasn't here last night, Lucy."

"Not _him_! Harry! Harry Potter! The Bloody Boy Who Stares A Lot And Does Unexplainable Things Like… Stuff And Sneaks Around In The Corridors With Particularly Pretty But Altogether Rude-As-Hell Ravenclaws And –"

I stopped talking when Margie burst out laughing. She continued laughing like a hyena and clutching at her stomach for a few more moments, until she slowly started to breathe normal again. But then she looked back up at my face and started snickering on like a twelve-year-old boy with his first-ever copy of _WitchNaked._

"Oh, get out." I told a still-chortling Marge.

And she did. She left, rubbing her side and letting out one of those little sigh/snorts every few seconds.

And I thought I'd gone mad.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

I'm sneaking out.

Well, I'm not _going_ to. I already have.

I am, quite literally, out in the corridor.

Which corridor it is, I'm not entirely sure. You'd think that I'd have at least the slightest bit of a clue by now, because I've been here since September 1st and Halloween is in two weeks. But no.

I'm not even on the same floor as the Hospital Wing any longer, I know that for sure. I didn't mean to do that, though. I was just walking about aimlessly when I sat on a staircase to rest my feet for a second (no shoes on these floors can hurt, let me tell you), when suddenly the staircase moved, giving me a heart attack and about three aneurysms. I was so frightened that I didn't move for a second, but then I was shot with a jolt of adrenaline and continued running up a few more flights of stairs, as fast as I could, until I had to pause for a bit of a breather.

Now I'm stuck on this one staircase that doesn't really lead to anywhere except some really old painting and then more stairs. But I don't have enough strength to go up, or even down, a single flight of stairs.

Why is it so cold? It's only mid-October.

Oh, Merlin, I shouldn't have run like that after having just eaten. Ugh. Maybe I should have waited an hour or so before escaping the hospital wing.

What time is it?

I turned to the portrait behind me and asked the woman, in the politest way possible, "Pardon me, ma'am, but do you happen to know what time it is right now?"

The woman in the portrait shook her head at me and said, "You're going to have to try better than that, dear. I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

What is she talking about?

I asked her this. I asked, "What are you talking about?" in a really confused way – because I was – and she simply shook her head at me.

"You're not getting into the tower without the correct password." She said.

Not… what?

"Have you forgotten what it is?" She asked me. "I'm sorry, but I still can't let you in."

Am I the only sane person in the entire castle?! What in Merlin's name is she going on about?!

"Lady…" I said slowly, cautiously stepping backwards. "I don't know what's wrong with you. Maybe you've been cooped up inside that painting too long, but… I have no idea what you're talking about."

She opened her mouth to say something more, but instead she swung open.

Just like that. She swung open.

I screamed.

I must have had an Angina attack or something, because I fell flat on my butt and stared wide-eyed at a figure emerging from where the portrait was before it suddenly swung open.

(Don't laugh. I know what an Angina attack is. When I first heard it I crossed my hands over my private area and said, "Oh, Merlin, that's pervy."

But, no, that's not what an Angina attack is. It's like an anxiety attack except it can affect the throat, jaw, the stomach and, more rarely, between the shoulder blades and usually lasts about 2 to 10 minutes. They're usually brought on by physical exercise, psychological stress, extreme cold, or a heavy meal (all three, in my case, I suppose).

And this is a lot of information to be held between two parentheses. Parenthesis?

What in Merlin's name is the plural form of "parenthesis"?

Ah, well. Whatever.)

…Where was I before I so rudely interrupted myself and decided to give you lot a lesson on Anginas? (Hah… Even though I know what it is, it still makes me laugh… I have such an immature mind. Angina… Oh, oh, my stomach. I can't breathe.)

Oh, yes.

"Bloody hell!" The figure exclaimed and looked down at me.

Dennis! Oh, bless your soul, Dennis, because I'm going to call a dementor _right now_ to snatch it away! I may have permanently damaged my Angina!

…

Heh.

"Dennis Creevey!" I said his name in the scolding way that every single teacher at Hogwarts says mine. "Watch your language!"

I stood up, then. "Now, you short boy! Tell me! Why would you come barging out of wherever it is you came from to give me an Angina attack?!"

"A what attack?" He coughed and stared at me.

Boys. Always thinking with their you-know-whats, never their brains. Honestly. How did boys get so pervy?

"Where did you just come from, anyway?" I asked him, ignoring the weirded-out look he was giving me.

"The… common room…" He said slowly, as though I was a three-year-old.

"What common room?" I asked, looking around. "This isn't the way to the Hufflepuff common room… And that woman in the portrait is positively ginormous. What did she do with the skinny old man? And you're not even in my house! You're in Gryffindor! You're – oh…."

I blinked at little Dennis and opened and closed my mouth in a complete goldfish moment.

Then a thought struck me, sending a grin across my face.

"Step aside, short stack, and let me in." I told him. "I've got to see this."

"But you're not –" He stammered. "You're Hufflepuff and –"

I widened my eyes and pouted at him. "Is it me?" I asked pathetically. "Do you not like me? It's my looks, isn't it? I'm hideous."

His eyes widened even more than mine, which I didn't quite think possible. "N- no, no… No. You're not – you're not –" He swallowed what seemed like a sailboat. "You're very – you're – pret – pretty. You're –"

I grinned, then. "Oh, Dennis, that's so nice of you!" I jumped at him and hugged him tightly, making sure to shove what little boobs I had in his face. "No one's ever said that to me before!"

Well, yes. Justin has. And that nasty boy at Durmstrang who told me I had sexual tension. And Margie and Ginny. And Hermione.

But little Dennis doesn't know that, now does he?

I pulled away and smiled my best-ever smile at him. "Thanks, Dennis!"

His face was quite possibly redder than anything I had ever seen in my life.

"I – er – I –" He stuttered like he was having a right dither attack.

I looked him straight on. "Since, you're such a gentleman, Dennis…" I whispered. "If you let me in, I'll show you something I know you've _never_ seen before."

His eyes practically jumped out of their sockets right there in front of me and his face turned about three million shades darker crimson. I thought he was going to have a nervy spaz to end all nervy spazzes right there, but he didn't. He said, "S-sure!"

Now way. Is this really this easy?

It can't be.

Dennis turned around to walk back into his common room or whatever, but then he stopped and looked back at me. "Are you coming?" He asked.

I nodded quickly. "You bet I am!"

This is triple-great.

Not only will I be able to see another house's common room, but I've also managed to manipulate a boy into doing exactly what I want.

But most of all, Madam Pomfrey will never think to look for me here.

Oh, I'm good.

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**::AN:: **Please don't bombard me with protests of "Not another cliffhanger!" because, technically, it's not, and, technically, all chapter ending are cliffhangers because the fic isn't done, and you don't know what will happen next. I love you guys, though. Thanks for all the reviews. 

**::AN2::** The next chapter will be posted soon, but it won't be as long as this one. It's still a chapter, though! And you'll (probably) like it! Ah, well, you'll see.

**::AN3::** So far I have, like, three flames for this fic. Cool, huh? I think that's cool. Maybe it's weird, but flames make me laugh. (Until I start thinking about it, and then I'm all sadish.) So, flame me if you want, but… I _would_ rather you not.

**::AN4::** Constructive criticism is not a flame. It helps. Feel free to give me advice, really.

Please review! I hope y'all liked this chapter!

_PS:_ This site sucks and it's taken me almost an hour to fix it up on QuickEdit because it keeps bunching stuff together and/or putting everything bold and underlined. So if something is severely screwed up, I'm SO sorry, but it's not my fault. I hate the new QuickEdit thing; I want the old one back RIGHT NOW! Hmmph.


	17. The Weirdest Feeling In the World

**:DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Harry Potter. I think I speak for everyone when I say, "Duh."

**:AN:** I know I haven't updated in a bazillion (is that a real number? My spell check says it is, lol), years (well, like, two months or so), and I'm really sorry about that. I've been a combination of both busy and lazy. (Very bad combo, by the way.) And every time I got a review or email saying "Please update soon!" all desperate-like, I felt even worse for not updating, but I couldn't really think of anything to write and blah blah blah. You don't care, right? You just want to read the chapter, huh? Well, all right then. But I have to make a few responses first. I hope that's okay with you. It is? Oh, thanks so much. (Chill. You know I love y'all.)

Okay, no responses. I have no time. Just thanks to everyone who reviewed and sorry this chapter is late coming. And a special thanks to my faithful reviewers who kept on reviewing and reviewing to get me to update (or just to bug me, I don't know. Kidding, lol). You know who you are.

Audrey Claio: I'll gladly read your fic 'Echo', but when I clicked on your name, it's not there. You have a fic, but that's not the title. Let me know when you post the one you want me to read, M'kay? M'kay!

Onward, ye merry men of exploration, to:

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

As soon as I walked into the Gryffindor common room, I heard someone start squeaking.

Seriously. It was like a language consisting of nothing but squeaky noises.

Really scary.

I looked around for a minute. "Oh, hey Hermione." I nodded to her and bounded towards the armchair she was seated in. "Look! I'm wild! I'm dangerous! I'm in a common room that's not mine!"

"How in Merlin's name did you get in here?" I heard someone ask. I turned, then.

Ah, Ron. On the couch with Ginny and that boy that I don't know.

No, wait. Longbottom. That's his name.

"With my ruthless and mercilessly conniving wit." I said as I sat on the arm of Hermione's chair.

"You came in with Dennis Creevey." Ginny said, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

I paused and scratched my head. "Well, when I said 'ruthless and mercilessly conniving wit', I may have meant…" I met eyes with Ginny.

Ginny just blinked at me for a second before she proceeded to giggle into her hand.

Um, okay. You… have fun over there, Gin. No, really.

I shrugged and looked around. "So this is what you griffins do, then, hmm? You just sit around like a bunch of boring bores and make up your own squeaky languages?"

Just then, Hermione decided to demonstrate her extensive knowledge of Squeakiness. "You!" She squeaked. "Youcan'tbeinhereyouneedtoleaverightnowdoyouhaveanyideahowmanyrulesyou'rebreaking!"

I paused. "No. How many?"

Whoa! I can understand Squeakiness.

She stood up, the books on her lap falling to the floor. "Lucy!" She hissed, starting to sound like a normal person for once. "You can't be in here!"

Okay. I understand. I'll just go somewhere else, then.

I said this to her. I said, "I'll just go somewhere else, then."

She heaved a huge sigh and nodded as I moved around her. "Good. Good, good."

Yeah, right. Like I'm going to leave just like that.

Who does she think I am? Better yet, who does she think I'm not?

Does she think I'm not a Malfoy?

Phhhtt.

"Hey, what's up these stairs?" I asked a small girl that I recognized as a first year from the feast on September 1st.

Again with the Fs. Honestly. Next thing you know I'll be Lisping Lucy. Or Fffing Freak.

Or, you know, something to that affect.

"The Boys' Dormitory." She giggled, looking up at me in what I can only describe as semi-admiration.

Aw, look. I'm a role model!

"LUCINDA MALFOY!" I heard Hermione squeak from across the room.

Ah, well, I don't suppose I'm a _positive_ role model, hmm?

No.

"Thanks." I grinned to the little first year and continued to run as fast as I could up the stairs.

I could hear footsteps pounding up the steps behind me, but I ran harder than ever. (Which isn't very hard, considering the fact that I'm not in tip-top physical shape, I'll have you know.) As soon as I saw that one of the doors in the hallway was ajar, I ripped it all the way open and stumbled inside, shutting the hunk of wood behind me and pulling out my wand to place a locking charm on it. All in lightning-fast speed.

Oh, I'm good.

"Er, can I help you?" I heard someone ask behind me.

I turned around, my wand dropping to the floor as I jumped, seeing who sat on a bed on the other side of the dorm room.

Great. Harry Freaking Potter. Just who I wanted to see.

Not.

Well, okay, I _had_ wanted to talk to him. But that was, like, yesterday.

"I… Uh…" I stammered like a dolt. I cleared my throat. "Not, uh, really. I'm just… hiding from… you know, Hermione."

He smiled a little, then.

Oh, dying. No, melting into a puddle is more like it.

What is _wrong_ with me! It must be the fumes. This is not only one boy's room, but five. I'm being overwhelmed with Scent of Boy.

"What are you doing in the Gryffindor Tower?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

I shrugged, shuffling over to another bed and plopping down on it. "I snuck out of the hospital wing, but then I got lost. And then I was in front of that painting of that enormous lady and then it opened up and Dennis came out." I grinned, then. "He was easily convinced that I would show him something he's never seen before, so he let me in. I don't think he caught on that I was just going to show him my birthmark." I paused. "It's on my ankle."

Harry Potter let out a small chuckle and studied my face for a moment. He was on the bed next to the one that I was sitting on and it suddenly dawned on me that this was the most conversation we'd ever had.

Maybe the fumes were getting to him, too.

"Sorry I barged in here." I added, to break the silence. "I'll leave as soon as I'm sure that Hermione won't hex me."

He nodded, still looking intently at my face.

I cleared my throat, shifting slightly under his gaze.

Yeah, this is weird. I'm just saying.

I looked up from my lap and saw Harry Potter still staring at me. Like he always does.

I tilted my head to the side. "You're doing it again." I told him. "Why do you do that, anyway?"

"Do what?" He asked.

Stare at me.

I shrugged and layed down on the bed. I wonder whose bed this is. "Whose bed is this?" I asked the ceiling.

"Dean Thomas's." Harry Potter responded.

Oh. I don't know who he is. I shrugged and sat up a little more, my back against the headboard. "Tell me something." I said, turning my head towards The Boy Who Made No Attempt To Keep The Conversation Flowing.

He shrugged and looked at me, waiting for me to speak.

"What's your worst subject?"

He seemed like he needed to think about it for a moment before he answered. Or maybe I just caught him off-guard, is all. "Potions." He finally said.

I smirked. "Why? Is it because it's hard or because the professor hates Gryffindors?"

He shrugged. "Probably because of Snape, yeah."

I laughed. "Snape's a bit scary, I suppose. He took points from Hufflepuff on our first day of class."

"I think he took points from everyone but Slytherin on the first day." Harry laughed. "What's yours?"

"My what?"

"Worst subject."

I groaned. "Oh, definitely History of Magic. I can never remember who did what. Plus, you know, that class is really boring."

Harry nodded and sat up straighter. Like he was actually getting into the conversation or something.

Yeah, right.

"Best subject." He said.

Oh, I get it. It's like a game!

I grinned. "Charms. I don't know why. And you?"

"Defense." He shrugged.

Of course. The Boy Who Lived would obviously be good in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Favorite place in the world." I said, coming up with another topic.

"Hogwarts." He responded.

I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. "Ugh."

"What about you?" He asked after a few moments.

"I don't have one." I shrugged. "Hmm… Let me think… Birthday?"

He wrinkled his eyebrows at me. "Do you mean when is it or which was my favorite?"

Good question.

I laughed. "Both, I guess."

He scratched the top of his head for a second and grinned at me. "Well, July 31st and… I'm not sure which birthday was my favorite."

"Fair enough." I shrugged. "I don't have a favorite place so we're even."

He nodded. "Your turn."

I opened my mouth to answer, when it suddenly dawned on me.

That's right. We were getting along. Worse, we both seemed to be enjoying it. It was the weirdest feeling in the world, let me assure you.

But it passed.

"June 21st. Summer solstice, of course." I said, smiling. "Um… I think my favorite was when I turned eleven."

Harry frowned. "Why? Because you'd be starting school soon?"

I laughed outright and shook my head. Yeah, right. Like that's something to look forward to. "No… Because it was a fun day, I guess. It was a Sunday and my brother had just gotten back from Hogwarts the day before, so was making this huge deal about him being home. She had this 'Welcome Home' party for him and invited all of her friends that had children Draco's age at Hogwarts."

"And that was fun?" Harry asked, practically scowling. "It sounds like your mom forgot your birthday and you had to put up with a bunch of Slytherins all day."

Well, when you put it that way…

What an idiot. Seriously.

"No, she didn't forget." I felt my stomach tense up, like it does when I'm starting to get mad. "And I didn't have to _put up_ with anything. It was fun." I paused and sighed. "I guess it's just my favorite because my dad left for London the next morning and didn't come home before I left to go stay with some relatives a few days later. And then I started at Durmstrang and I didn't come home until this past summer."

Harry frowned. "You haven't seen Luc – I mean, your father, in five years?"

"You make it sound so weird."

"It is weird."

"You're weird."

Harry just blinked at me like he was thinking about something. "Why'd you go to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

I shrugged. "Okay, um, I know you completely hate my brother, but I don't. Anyway, you'd think that I was friends with all of the purebloods my age, but really we – Draco and me – didn't see many kids around our age except at boring parties and whatnot. So, it was usually just _us_, you know." I stopped for a second and stared at the opposite wall. "After Draco got back from Hogwarts, he was… different." I continued. "He was arrogant and conceited and the rudest person in the world. I didn't like it. And I was really naïve about, I don't know, _everything_, so I just came up with the perfect solution: don't go to Hogwarts. I was afraid I'd end up like my brother or something if I came here and I just didn't want to be around him anymore."

Harry seemed to find my answer…

What am I saying? I have no idea what I'm going on about. My brain shifted off-balance for a second when my chakra was thrown into whack by bad feng shui and what have you.

I told you, I don't know what I'm saying.

All I know is I was staring at Harry's brilliant green eyes for what seemed like a millennia but was really only a few seconds (I think) when there was an "Alohamora", a squeaking yell of frustration (or was it aggravation? I think both), a sudden headache like you wouldn't believe, and darkness.

Complete and utter darkness.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

I found out later that the darkness was caused by flaps of skin folding over my eyes.

You may know this process as "eyes closing."

Yes, that's what happened.

More specifically, I was hit in the back of the head with a blunt object (which I now know to be a very large book), causing me to – for lack of a better term – pass out.

At least that's what Ginny was telling me as I lay safely back in my bed in the hospital wing.

"At least Pomfrey didn't notice that you left." She said. "That's good, right?"

"Sure." I mumbled tiredly, my eyes closed.

Hermione is so dead.

"Well, I'm going to go now." Ginny was saying as I fell asleep. "You just… sleep it off, okay?"

So very, very dead.

* * *

**:AN:** Sorry it's short! I'll try and update sooner than this, I promise. It was weird going for, like, two months without updating again

**:AN2:** It might not be as soon as you want, though, since I practically had to push out this chapter from the wee corners of the universe. I was a bit blocked, you see. Any suggestions, people? Help is appreciated.

**:AN3:** Harry is a bit OOC in this chapter – what with talking to Lucy openlyish and all. My excuse is that Lucy is sick _and_ infatuated with Harry and Harry is lonely (if you'll remember from earlier chapters, he's been keeping to himself lately. Which is why he was alone when Lucy barged in on him in this chapter), so he jumped at some social interaction. And his sudden moodiness towards the end is blamed on the fact that he realized (although he obviously knew, he just wasn't thinking about it) that Lucy is a Malfoy and Draco's sister. You'll notice that nothing is blamed on me, _n'est-ce pas_?

**:AN4:** I'm _pretty sure_ the dates of Lucy's birthday and everything match up. I looked on the Harry Potter Lexicon and the timeline for Harry's first year _does_ say that the students went back home on June 20.

I read somewhere that Draco's birthday was the Winter Solstice, which means he was born in late '79 (December 22nd, to be exact), not '80, since you have to already be 11 to start school at Hogwarts (JK Rowling said this on her website). But I don't know for sure if that's what his birthday is – that's what I'm going by, though. I decided to make Lucy's birthday the Summer Solstice in contrast, and if she was born on June 21st of '81, it makes sense that she would start school in the fall. Some of you may have already understood this, but I'm just explaining it anyway, just incase. If it doesn't make sense, I'm sorry.

Please review!


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